


A Song For The Sea

by starryeyedkids



Series: A Song For The Sea [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Curse Breaking, Cursed!Louis, Curses, Injury, M/M, Magic, Magic!Harry, Magic-Users, Merman Louis, Mythical Beings & Creatures, a lot of reflecting and musing about magic, mentions of corporal punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8493574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedkids/pseuds/starryeyedkids
Summary: Harry's eyes fixed on the... merman, a small, removed, part of his brain that wasn’t running on fear noticed the greyish-blue tail that was flicking in and out of the water, and his fingers tightened around the cutlass.
  The merman swallowed, and its eyes flicked to the gleaming blade of cutlass in Harry’s hand and then back to Harry, and then it spoke in a rough, disused voice, "Please. My name is Louis. I’m human and I’ve been cursed.”  Harry’s mind couldn’t handle anymore strangeness, so he leaped forward and slashed his cutlass in the merman’s direction and the merman flinched back in fear, and then slipped into the water and swam away, its tail splashing water.
  **
Harry protected his little seaside town from the human-like, but inhuman creatures that called the sea their home. Then, he met a merman called Louis, who insisted that he was a human who had been cursed, and in spite of his grandfather's warnings that the sea creatures were vicious and tricky, and his abhorrence for magic, Harry learned about magic, and decided to help Louis.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This the biggest fic I've written yet, and it took way longer than I expected to complete. I'm actually posting this again because I deleted the version that I posted yesterday. I wasn't satisfied with the last scene, so I wrote a bit more. I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks K [@hazillions](http://hazillions.tumblr.com/) for helping with the editing and for listening to my endless rambling.
> 
> Russian translation of this fic is [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5556639). Thank you, arielle_arielle!

Harry woke up at 4:30 A.M every day. He lit a candle, washed his face, put on his coat and cloth cap, pulled on his boots and fastened his cutlass to his side. Then he walked to beach, went to the cove and sang.

It was a misty day today and a chill wind was blowing. His lantern only sliced a small swathe of the darkness but it didn’t matter because Harry knew the way like the back of his hand. Harry briskly walked up to the beach and then clambered down the rocks and made his way to the cove.

He placed his lantern on a piece of rock that jutted out from the side of the cove and then looked out towards the sea. He couldn’t see much in the dim, flickering light of his lantern but he could hear the waves breaking against the shore and the faraway cry of a seagull. He stood listening for some time. He loved the sea, loved its beauty, and loved its roar during a high tide and its gentle lapping during a low tide.

He eventually broke out of his thoughts and took a deep breath. He emptied his mind of all thoughts, sharpened his focus, knelt down and looked at the water and began to sing.

It wasn’t a song in the conventional sense. The first time he heard his grandfather sing this song he had wondered mildly if his grandfather had caught the ‘spirits’ that Ms. Weaver kept on prattling about. The song was a warbling rumble that made the water quiver and his ears buzz as he sang. It didn’t have any words, only intent and power.

His grandfather had named this a ‘Call’ but he hadn’t explained why he had named it that. The Call kept out the creatures that hid in the sea; creatures that were human like but inhuman. His family had Called for generations and had kept the creatures away from the shore and the humans and it was now Harry’s turn to take up this duty.

He finished the Call and stood up, his knees cracking. He watched the water ripple outwards and outwards until he lost sight of it. He didn’t know the exact reach of the Call and had often asked about it but his grandfather had told him that it didn’t matter as long it did the job.

Harry picked up his lantern, went out and started walking home. There were already some fishermen out and about who were readying their boats for the day. The sun was rising, a red splotch in the horizon and he could hear the yells and whoops of the fishermen.

Dusty was sitting by his bowl when Harry got back and he meowed out a greeting to Harry. Harry had never intended to own a cat but one day he had fed a few scraps to a bedraggled kitten that had come up to while he was eating lunch and suddenly he was in possession of a cat.  Or rather he had an understanding with Dusty since Dusty didn’t approve of being owned.

Harry took off his cap, coat and boots, bent down to scratch Dusty’s ears and then gave him something to eat before he made his breakfast. It was a simple breakfast: a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea. Harry went over his schedule for the day as he ate and after he had finished, he washed his dishes and left the house.

Today, he would have to go to the Roberts’ house and then to Brown’s house. The Roberts family lived in a wealthier part of town and had a big garden. When Harry entered the garden, he saw that Tom was already watering the plants. He called out a greeting to him and Tom turned around and grinned at him.

“Good morning, Harry! We’ve got a lot of work to do this morning. I don’t think Alfie’s going to come today. He got sloshed last night and last I saw him, he was snoring in a corner in the pub.” Tom said with a roll of his eyes.

Tom was a big, red cheeked man with a neat moustache and wispy black hair. His trousers were as muddy as usual and his fingernails were already caked with soil and Tom looked happy as he always did when surrounded by plants. Gardening was his passion and he had turned this garden into a marvel with no help from the Head Gardner. Harry was very fond of him for he was a supportive friend, and had helped Harry get some smaller gardening jobs.

“Sure. I only have to go to the Brown’s place afterwards,” Harry said.

“Alright. Pick up a pair of shears then.”

They chatted as they worked; Tom told him about his husband and about his brother who had come to visit with his wife and about some of the things he was growing. Harry in turn told him about one of his friends whom he had met and a book that he had read and about Dusty. Tom was silent for a moment and when Harry looked up he saw that Tom was frowning.

“That’s a lonely life, mate.”

“It really isn’t. I hardly ever feel lonely,” Harry said a touch defensively. He knew he didn’t lead the most interesting life, but he didn’t mind.

“If you think so. But Harry, I don’t understand why you have stuck around here after John died. You could’ve gone to a city and made a life for yourself like Gemma did.”

Harry tensed up. Tom didn’t know why Harry had to stay here, didn’t know the duty Harry had and he wouldn’t understand even if Harry told. He wiped his brow with his forearm and stared intently at the hedge. He sighed deeply and said, “Twilling is my home. I don’t want to leave.”

Tom echoed his sigh and scratched his chin. “You can make a home somewhere else too you know.”

“Maybe,” Harry said with a flat and hard edge to his tone so that Tom wouldn’t start sermonizing again.

“Harry,” Tom said and turned around to face Harry. Harry looked at him and met his concerned, pitying brown eyes with a cold look. They held each other’s gazes for a moment and then Tom looked away, defeated.

“Think you can manage on your own? I’ll go look at the flowers.”

“Yes. I can manage,” Harry said in a dismissive voice and resumed clipping the hedges.

“I never liked John,” Tom said.

“So you’ve said a million times,” Harry replied not looking away from his work.

Tom stood there for a tense moment longer but then he walked away and Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

At lunch, Tom made it up to him by promising to buy him a beer at the pub the next time they went there. They talked about less sensitive issues and after lunch, Harry helped for an hour more before he left for the Brown’s home.

He hadn’t been able to shake off his unsettled mood and he returned Mrs. Brown’s greeting in a perfunctory way and went to the garden. The Browns had a smaller garden but it was beautiful; Mrs Brown had worked diligently on this garden for 20 years before she had to stop because of her arthritis.

When Mrs Brown brought him a cup of tea at tea time, he thanked her profusely in order to make up for his earlier behaviour.

“Are you alright, Harry? You’ve been a bit withdrawn today.” Mrs. Brown said, her pale blue eyes concerned and quizzical.

“I’m alright, Mrs. B. Just feeling a bit tired. A good night’s sleep will set me right.” Harry said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

He didn’t know why Tom’s words were so disquieting and why they made him feel so uncomfortable. Tom urged him to leave Twilling and seek a job in the city every other month and his suggestions usually just rolled off like water on a duck’s back.

 _‘Maybe because it wasn’t an option before but now..._ ’ A small voice needled at the back of his brain. Harry quashed it before it could take root. Leaving had never and will never be an option. He had a duty towards Twilling and he wasn’t going to shy away from it.

“I hope you sleep well, dear. But, I think it is going to storm tomorrow, my joints have been aching for the past two days.”

“Oh! Mrs. Brown! That’s awful. Have you been able to sleep?” Harry asked, dismayed. When Mrs. Brown’s arthritis flared up, she often couldn’t sleep because it hurt too much.

“Yes, dear. Dr. Payne got me a new ointment that has reduced the pain to a manageable level. And if I can’t sleep then James makes me tea and we sit talking through the night.”

Harry’s heart warmed by the obvious affection in her voice and the way her eyes softened when she spoke about him. Harry wished that he could have this one day with someone.

“That Dr. Payne is much better than that old dodderer, Dr. Peters. He has a kindly manner and he actually listens to your complains before he gives you a medicine. I’m glad Dr. Peters decided to retire to the hills.” Mrs. Brown said with heavy scorn in her voice. Harry smiled; she and Dr. Peters had butted heads for many years and he was certain that she must’ve celebrated when Dr. Peters had announced his retirement.

“Dr. Payne? I don’t think I’ve seen him around,” Harry said, trying to recall if he had seen someone new at Dr. Peters place. But, no, the house was still boarded up. Maybe Dr. Payne had started his dispensary somewhere else.

“Well, I’m certain you’ll see him soon enough. He has only been here for 3 months or so.”

“Yes, I’ll probably run into him somewhere. I’d better get back to work, Mrs. B.”

“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Brown said, and went inside the house.

After he finished his worked, Harry went to the market to buy some groceries for dinner. He brought some meat, vegetables and eggs for himself and some fish scraps for Dusty. He winded through the crowded street and made small talk with some of the people he recognized and adroitly avoided Shaw and Perkins; his old school mates, childhood bullies and all round morons. He wasn’t a small and gawky lad anymore, and he could easily knock their teeth out but he didn’t want to deal with their stupidity before dinner.

As he walked through one of Twilling’s more fashionable streets, he stopped when a familiar buzzing filled his ears. He turned around to look for the source of the buzzing and his eyes fell on Mr and Mrs Hawkins; who were standing at the door of the furrier’s and looking at him. Well, Mrs Hawkins was looking at him and Mr Hawkins was speaking something to her.

Harry’s hand felt slippery and wet around the parcel of meat he was holding and his heart began to pound. He swallowed hard, and turned around completely to look at Mrs Hawkins, and shuddered when the buzzing hit a crescendo and the air around him turned peculiar, sort of loaded and made gooseflesh rise in his arms. Mr Hawkins tugged at Mrs Hawkins hand and like a taut rope being cut off, the buzzing stopped and left Harry reeling and unbalanced.

Harry hurried home with a dry mouth and trembling arms and dumped the groceries carelessly on the table before collapsing on a chair. It had felt so familiar; the buzzing had felt as though Mrs Hawkins was calling out to him with the same power that Harry had.

 _“Stop it with those fanciful notions, Harry!”_ His grandfather’s voice echoed in his ears, words that he’d heard a million times, words that were invariably followed by a caning. His grandfather had abhorred ‘fanciful notions’ and fanciful notions included Harry’s wish to become a solicitor or go to a city and Gemma’s insistence that she could do whatever Harry could do and her dream to write.

Harry sat in silence in the dark, musty room and breathed in deeply till his heart stopped racing and his arms stopped trembling. Dusty nudged his leg with his head and looked at him, his yellow eyes shining in the gloom of the room. Harry patted Dusty’s head and eventually he got up, lit the lamps and started peeling potatoes for dinner.

**

Mrs Brown’s prediction about a storm came true the next day.

 It was already drizzling as Harry made his way to the beach and Harry drew his rain coat tighter around him to ward off the cold raindrops. When he reached the beach, he saw that it was high tide, and hence he would have to go further up the beach to Call. There was a huge outcropping of rocks towards the north and some rocks had formed a sort of a cave where he could hide and Call in peace.

He grimaced as his boots squelched in the wet sand and he grumbled all the way to the outcropping. The Call was punctuated by cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning and he slipped and banged his knee against a rock. By the time he managed to scramble up the rocks and make his way home, rain was lashing down on Twilling and the waves were rising up and trashing against the rocks so forcefully that they made Harry’s bones quake. The beam of light from the lighthouse seemed thin and weak and Harry sent a quick prayer for all the ships and boats in the sea.

Harry’s fingers were numb and his socks were soaked and he could hear Dusty’s pitiful cries as he fumbled with his key. He went inside his house and immediately kindled a fire, and after the fire started crackling and popping; he lit the lamps and peeled off his damp clothes. He put on some dry, warm clothes and then kneeled down to look beneath his bed. Dusty’s luminous yellow eyes stared back at him and when Harry carefully petted Dusty’s head, Dusty’s fur felt stiff  beneath his palm and Harry could feel the trembling of his body.

Harry made soothing noises and petted Dusty until his meows quietened and his trembling lessened. Harry tried to coax him out but Dusty refused to come out from beneath the bed so he left a bowl of water and food near the bed.

 He went to the window, and looked outside to gauge if he could make it to work but he quickly decided against it when he saw that the rain was now accompanied by a strong gusts of wind. He yelped when a particularly strong gust of wind blew rain water right through his window and sprayed his face and shirt. He slammed the rickety window shut, and flopped down on his chair, grumbling and cursing the rain as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

Work wasn’t possible today and he groaned when he realised that he was supposed to go to Mr. Arbuthnot’s today. Mr. Arbuthnot would dock his wages for his absence even though it was impossible for Harry to work in this weather. Mr. Arbuthnot was the sort of man, Harry thought drily, who would fire a man for causing him inconvenience by dying without  prior notice and would make his displeasure known at the man’s funeral.

Harry made breakfast and he ate watching the raindrops splatter against his narrow window, and then made himself another cup of tea and savoured its warmth. The whole day stretched out before him and he wondered what he should do. He decided to first write a reply to Gemma’s letter and then he would clean the house - not that there was a lot of cleaning to do since he was a neat man and tidied the house every day.

He took out Gemma’s letter and read it again, mentally framing what he would write. Gemma often teased him for writing his letters like they were essays but Harry preferred thinking things out before he wrote it down to ensure that his letters didn’t end up in multiple rambling tangents.

Gemma had written to him about her job at a small periodical; she was still a new comer there so she didn’t get to write any articles yet, only proof reading jobs but, she was excited and happy and completely in her element and Harry felt a fierce rush of pride. She also mentioned a Mr. James Lesley who wanted to court her and that she was considering his offer.

Harry wrote about how proud and happy he was, teased her a bit about Mr. Lesley, asked her a little more about her life in the city and informed her that one of her friends had gotten engaged. Then, he wrote about how his week had passed – there was embarrassingly little to write – then he paused, his pen poised above the paper, thinking. He cursed when a drop of ink from the leaky nib splashed down on paper. He put his pen down, and blotted the ink stain and then frowned unseeingly at the letter, his mind weighing the wisdom of mentioning the incident with Mrs. Hawkins to Gemma.

He had dismissed it as a fanciful notion yesterday, but today he could recall how vivid it had been, and how it had seemed so familiar. It reminded him of the first time he had seen his grandfather Call, and the way he’d felt. Yesterday’s incident had left him feeling - bewildered with a smidgen of fear prickling in the back of his neck because this was different and strange. His grandfather had never spoken at length about their powers, had told him that they had to use it to protect the town, and that this secret had to be protected at any cost.

Harry and Gemma had asked a lot of questions at first, bursting with curiosity at this new, odd facet that had been revealed about John Cox who was proper, stern and responsible to his core and so dry and unimaginative that young Harry had been quite sure that he wouldn’t be able to manage a game of cops and robbers. John had borne their questions in stiff silence for two days and had then used the cane liberally to shut them up. Gemma and Harry had come up with more and more bizarre theories until the Call become a part of their daily routine, unexciting and dull.

 _“Perhaps it was my imagination. I must’ve been tired.”_ Harry thought, and winced at how painfully childish and idiotic it sounded. But, he had no other explanation as to why he had felt that familiar buzz when he had looked at Mrs. Hawkins, who, based on what Harry knew, was a well to do lady who had moved to Twilling six months ago so that the sea air may do her husband’s health some good and had become the backbone of social life in Twilling.

Deciding that it was no use mulling over it, Harry picked up the pen and signed off the letter and stuffed it into an envelope. He cleaned the house in a cursory manner and then flopped down on his bed for a nap. He smiled when Dusty crept out from beneath the bed and jumped on his chest. He cuddled Dusty closer and went to sleep.

Later, he made himself a late lunch, and then read the paper with Dusty curled up on his lap, and the rhythmic banging of the shutters as background music. The storm blew over sometime in the evening and Harry opened the window to let the cool air in. For dinner, he made a delicious soup and relished every last spoon of it and then he retired to bed early with Dusty curled up at his feet, satisfied with a lazy day spent well.

**

The next two weeks held a few excitements; the first being the scuffle between Alfie the absentee gardener, and the head gardener Old Pete at the Robert’s place. Pete had realised that Alfie was absent from work more often than not, and had unceremoniously fired him and had told one of Alfie’s mates to inform him about being given the boot. Alfie, indignant and quite a bit inebriated had marched to the Robert’s place, and clocked Peter one.

Unfortunately for Alfie, Pete’s big and intimidating son worked as a stable hand at the Robert’s place and Pete’s big and intimidating daughter worked as a maid there. They had a few words with Alfie which ended with him being literally flung out if the gate, bruised and humiliated.

Old Pete, by this time had come to a conclusion that a life of coming to work and sleeping through the day, and still getting paid was too strenuous for him; so, he gave his notice and recommended Tom for the post of head gardener. Tom was elated and had promised everyone a pint at the pub when he took over after Pete’s notice period was done.

Secondly, a young couple had eloped, and the whole of Twilling was agog with the daily arguments that erupted between the families of the couple, and whatever scraps of news that filtered through friends of friends of the couple’s family. Mr. Arbuthnot spent a lot of time decrying the follies and stupidities of the modern youth though Harry had inkling that he was more excited by the whole mess than disapproving.

Harry mulled over it in an idle sort of way as he walked to the beach one morning. Twilling was a placid little town with few scandals and the elopement was much more interesting than the arrival of a rich couple or a handsome, new doctor. Harry was quite sure the elopement would be milked for years to come and he felt a bit bad for the family; it must be mortifying for them to know that they were the topic of their neighbours’ dinner time conversation.

Harry went down to the cove and put aside his lantern and began to Call. He Called heartily, right from his heart, and he was quite proud of how powerful the Call was today. He finished the Call and stood in silence and felt the thrum and buzz of his Call move outward towards the sea and then fade gently away.

Harry cracked his knuckles and then reached out to pick up his lantern when he heard a sound. It was a rhythmic splashing sound and Harry turned towards the opening of the cove and squinted into the darkness to figure out where the splashing came from. He strained his ears for a minute, but the splashing had stopped and silence reigned again, broken only the gentle lapping of the waves and the whistle of the wind.

There it came again; the splashing sound that was quieter now, almost as though whoever or whatever it was, was trying to make it unnoticeable. Harry had a sudden, cold realisation that the sound was moving _towards_ the cove and the thing had _intentionally_ tried to mask its movements.

Then he heard a sound that unnerved him to his core and made a thrill of fear run down his spine – the sound of rapid, shallow breathing. Harry jerked into action and swivelled to pick up the lantern, and beat a hasty retreat and when he turned back again, he shrieked and fell on the wet rock with a bruising thump when he saw pale, thin, webbed hands on the rock at the mouth of the cove.

His mind and body felt detached from each other; his mind was a jumbled mess of incoherent screaming, and inarticulate thoughts of _‘ I’m dying, I’m going to die, God save me...’_ whereas his body was frozen stupid and heavy on the rock, the wetness of the rock seeping in through his trousers and smalls. His mind went blank and quiet like a void, as though every thought, every emotion and even his brain itself had vanished into nothingness as he watched the muscles of the thing’s arms flex and a head and torso come into view.

Suddenly, his brain seemed to pop back into existence again with a clarion call of ‘Cutlass, _Cutlass_ , CUTLASS _’_ and he stood up on shaky legs while his hand moved of its own accord to transfer the lantern to his other hand and pull out the cutlass from the sheath that he had strapped at his waist. He brandished the cutlass threateningly but his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, and it looked more like a toddler waving around its rattle.

“I’ll kill you! Go away!” Harry roared, and his voice echoed through the small space, and hid the tremble and crack in his voice a bit. His body was suddenly invigorated; his eyes fixed themselves on the... merman, a small, removed, part of his brain that wasn’t running on fear noticed the greyish-blue tail that was flicking in and out of the water, and his fingers tightened around the cutlass while his breathing deepened, and he felt a sudden burst of strength.

The merman swallowed, and its eyes flicked to the gleaming blade of cutlass in Harry’s hand and then back to Harry – a curiously human gesture. Harry took a threatening step closer; a movement that caused the light of the lantern to hit the merman’s face and Harry’s breath froze when he saw the merman’s eyes. It had blue eyes that were dark in the flickering light of the lantern, and Harry could see the whites of its eyes. Its eyes were extraordinarily _human,_ in stark contrast to the eyes that the merman that Harry had seen in his childhood had.

The ground beneath Harry’s feet slipped when the merman opened its mouth and _spoke_ , in a rough, disused voice, “Please. My name is Louis. I’m human and I’ve been cursed.”

The merman was speaking in _English_ and Harry’s mind couldn’t handle anymore strangeness, so he leaped forward and slashed his cutlass in the merman’s direction and the merman yelled in horror and then slipped into the water and swam away, its tail splashing water.

Harry ran out of the cove in blind fear, tripping and tumbling and cutting himself on the rocks. He broke his lantern on his third fall and his trousers ripped when they caught on a sharp piece of rock but Harry didn’t notice anything as he scrambled to the beach and ran all the way home.

**

Harry’s day passed in a fog. He went home and cleaned the cut on his forehead and the scrapes on his palm, put away the lantern and ruined trousers, fed Dusty and went to work.

He went through the motions of cutting, pruning, fertilising, weeding and smiled when people smiled at him and made conversation when it was expected of him. Even as his body and mouth moved like that of an automaton; his mind was brooding over what had happened in the morning obsessively, going over every minute detail. When lunch time came; he decided to go over the incident in a careful and precise manner in order to make sense of it.

Firstly, Harry thought, his grandfather was wrong about his belief that the Call kept away the mermaids and selkies and sirens, and other sea creatures. A merman had managed to come close, had been just a hair’s breadth away even though the Call was supposed to stop them from coming up and approaching humans. But, the merman had said that he was cursed, and he had human eyes, and he had spoken in a human tongue which went against what Harry knew of merpeople.

But then again, Harry had only ever seen one merman, and that too when he had been twelve years old. The memory was of course distorted now with his newer experiences and deeper understanding super-imposed on it, and it sometimes felt like a confused and elaborate fantasy but, Harry remembered certain moments with such clarity and in such detail that it could never be confused for a fantasy.

He still remembered the excitement glimmering in his grandfather’s eyes when he told Harry that they were going somewhere early in the morning and then the flare of irritation when Gemma had declared that she was going to follow him; Harry, for a moment hated her for intruding on what he’d thought of as his chance to finally bond with his grandfather. Then he was walking to the beach with his grandfather, his hand startlingly small in John’s broad, rough hand. Harry had chattered as they walked, and John had yanked his hand away and had cuffed Harry on the back of his head to quell his questions.

He could remember standing in the cove, the smell of briny, stale water in the cove assaulting his nose. His grandfather had kneeled down with his face near the water, and had started singing then, and a soft buzzing had filled the cove, and it had risen in volume until it drowned out the churn and hiss of the waves outside.

 His mild confusion had given way to apprehension and then he had felt an inexplicable lightness in his heart when his grandfather’s strange song became insistent and hit a crescendo. The song felt mysterious and ancient to Harry as though the power that was entwined with the song was from an unknown time and as though it would survive even when reality itself disappeared.

His grandfather had grasped his shoulder with a painful grip, and had pointed to the water that rippled for a moment or two, and then a young merman had breached the water. It had wide panicked eyes that looked a fish’s eyes and it had bluish skin, a dull grey tail and it was making a steady squeaking noise. It was a terrible, alien facsimile of a human.

Gemma had shrieked from her hiding spot by the mouth of the cove and Harry had cried and tried to pull away from his grandfather’s grasp and then his head had started swimming as he felt lightning bolts start to course through his body and he had one moment for startling clarity before his vision darkened, and his ears started ringing, and he had fainted, shutting out the surreal world where Gemma was shrieking, and his grandfather was yelling furiously, and a merman was swimming rapidly away from the cove.

Harry had woken up in his bed with Gemma by his side; her hair pulled back in tight plaits because grandfather disapproved of girls letting their hair loose, her eyes puffy with tears and her knuckles striped with red welts. They sat in silence, confused and desperately longing for their parents.

The next day, his grandfather had summoned him and had watched him in silence for a few minutes and Harry had squirmed in fear, fully expecting a beating for fainting like that.

“Do you remember what you saw yesterday, Harry?” John asked, his voice was even but Harry could make out a slight tremble of excitement in it.

“Er- yes?” Harry said, uncomfortable and scared by the uncharacteristically bright gleam in John’s eyes.

“You see, Harry, it was a merman, a sea creature. They’re real and not just characters in story books,” John spat out ‘story books’ with contempt because story books were yet another thing that he disapproved of severely.

 “They live in the sea and cause havoc in our lives,” John continued, leaning forward to look Harry in the eye. “There are different kinds of them, sea serpents, selkies, and etcetera though they’re very rare. Merpeople and sirens are more common.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that,” Harry stammered, feeling a thrilled by the information. He wanted to ask a lot of questions, but he kept quiet because John didn’t appreciate any interruptions.

“Our family has been protecting this town for generations, Harry, protecting it from these vicious creatures that kill and maim and loot. Isn’t that noble, Harry?”

“Yes, very much!” Harry agreed enthusiastically because he knew from experience that agreeing with his grandfather was always the best course of action.

“Don’t you want to protect our town too?”

“Um, I don’t-” Harry said. Facing those creatures didn’t seem very thrilling all of a sudden.

“I’ll teach you how to protect our town; I’ll teach you the Call and then one day you’ll take over from me.” John said steamrolling over Harry’s stammered protests.

“But, I don’t want-” Harry tried again only to be cut off by John’s glare.

“Quiet! And, remember, this is a secret. You’ll have to take this secret to your grave, mind you. Do you promise? ” John said, his voice fervent and urgent.

“Yes,” Harry said weakly.

“Good boy.” John said with a satisfied nod and he got up. “Remember, this is a secret. Unless you want us both to be sent to an asylum, you’ll have to keep your mouth shut. Alright?”

Harry had nodded and John had patted him on his head once before striding away.

Harry broke out of his thoughts with a sinking realization that he knew next to nothing, neither about his powers, nor the sea creatures and also that he had exceeded his break by 20 minutes.

**

Though Harry was quite sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep well that night; he ended up sleeping like a log. It was eight years of ingrained habit that woke him up at 4.30 AM and Harry groaned as he sat up on his bed. Dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of having to face the merman again and he quickly decided to Call someplace else. He picked up a bigger lantern and went to the beach.

He Called from the outcrop with his cutlass held in one hand and his lantern in the other. He tried to make the Call as potent as possible and concentrated hard on it, but his eyes kept flicking to the water, scanning it for any sign of merpeople. He didn’t see any merpeople around though and instead of lingering like he usually did, he went straight home.

A week passed in this fashion; Harry kept a lookout for anything out of the ordinary and then mulled over whatever information he had, which was embarrassingly low. Harry was floundering in a sea of conjecture and scraps of information that his grandfather had let slip through the years, and there was no one he could talk to or look to for answers and it made a terrible loneliness creep upon him. Harry eventually gave up on looking for answers because almost all of his questions were left unanswered and they only gave rise to even more questions.

Old Pete finally retired and he gave a farewell speech under the shade of an oak tree with the under gardeners as his captive audience, and his son and daughter flanking him. He spoke about his twenty five years as gardener in excruciating detail; he talked about the older Mr and Mrs Roberts, then about how the garden had evolved through the years and then about his successes and failures and his life in general. It was actually quite touching, but Harry was sitting on grass that was crawling with red ants and his crossed-legs were rapidly becoming numb.

They all perked up when it seemed like Pete was going to end his speech, but they deflated when Pete paused, cleared his throat and continued.

“I was a mere lad of twenty five when I was made the Head Gardener. I remember that day better than my wedding day, funny enough.” Pete paused again, and looked at them with an expectant look and smiled when there were a few grudging chuckles.

“Marks, he was the Head Gardener at that time, called me to his house one day. He’d broken his hip after a nasty fall, poor man, and he said in a choked voice: ‘Pete, I can’t garden anymore. I’ve talked to Mr. Roberts about it and he’s decided that you’ll be the next Head Gardener.”

“Me? I was shocked out of my wits and Marks just nodded and turned away. It must’ve been difficult for him to hand over his job to someone else of course, but he handled it quite well, I thought. I was made the Head Gardener and let me tell you it was a difficult task because there were no other gardeners. The Roberts’ were going through a bad phase at that time. It’s only after Mrs. Roberts took over Mr. Roberts’ finances and stopped him from investing in dud stocks that they got some money and managed to hire other gardeners.” Pete said with a far-away, misty eyed look.

Harry turned and stared at Tom, who stared back at him. Everyone was staring at Pete in disbelieving silence and one of the men muttered, “Everything makes sense now.”

There was a lot of pointed coughing and yawning when Pete crossed the 15 minute mark but Pete droned on, unaware of the impatient rustling and irritated sighs coming from his audience. He sputtered when his daughter gave him a sharp nudge and he grumbled about ‘impatient youths’ before grudgingly winding up his speech.

Then it was Tom’s turn to give a speech, but all he said was, “I expect you lot to work hard. And don’t forget to come to the pub tonight; I’ll get you all a free pint!”

There was a general round of cheering and then everyone got up to shake Pete’s and Tom’s hand and Harry hobbled up to them, his legs prickling with pins and needles.

An evening spent in the low roofed, hazy pub with friends and a pint turned out to be exactly what Harry needed. He enjoyed the banter and the jokes and aimlessly flirted with one of the tradesman who had come to Twilling on business. By the time Harry left – earlier than most; he felt relaxed and cheerful and he hummed to himself as he walked home.

It was a beautiful evening; a gentle breeze was blowing and Harry could hear the cries of the seagulls and the cawing of crows. People who passed by him smiled and waved at him and Harry waved back. He felt comfortable in the familiarity of Twilling; he belonged here and that was always a nice feeling, but Harry couldn’t help but long for something else, something new.

Harry was born in a city and had lived there till he was eleven. He had moved to Twilling after the death of his mother and his grandfather had come to pick up him and Gemma from their neighbour’s home. His first impression of John was that of a forbidding, dry and strict man, whose lip had curled up in distaste at their red rimmed eyes and snotty faces. Harry had believed with his whole heart that Twilling would be a horrible place: boring, forbidding and a poor replacement for his home. Harry had never grown fond of his grandfather though he had become fond of Twilling, a simple, gentle town with no pretensions and good people.

Harry wanted to go beyond Twilling. He wanted to leave Twilling and go past Ryson and Featherwick and Branswood and all the other neighbouring towns to reach the city that was beyond them. Then he wanted to go beyond the city to the capital and then he wanted to see the whole length and breadth of the country and also the world beyond his country.

But, he couldn’t could he? He was bound by duty to remain here and protect the town. Harry reeled with the heart crushing disappointment he felt and his mood fouled. A tinny voice sang out at the back of his head, _‘What if, what if, what if,’_ but Harry silenced it and walked back home, bitterness and anger scorching in his veins.

**

The next day, Harry was weeding Mrs. Brown’s garden and he ripped the weeds out and threw them into the basket by his side with more force than necessary. He was still in a resentful mood and he took it out on the worthless weeds that ruined the beautiful garden that he’d worked so hard on.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and said, “Excuse me?”

Harry stood up and turned around and saw a handsome, well dressed man with a doctor’s bag and a charming smile standing there. Harry realised that this was probably Dr. Payne, the new doctor in town.

“Are you the gardener?” Dr. Payne asked.

Harry slowly looked at the weeds that he still held in his hands and then at his mud splattered clothes and nodded. “Yes. I think I’m the gardener.” Harry said in a dry and flat voice and cringed a second later at his rudeness and he hoped that Dr. Payne wouldn’t take offence.

Thankfully, Dr. Payne just gave a sheepish chuckle. “Right. Anyway, I’ve been looking for a gardener and Mrs Brown praised your gardening skills to high heaven. So will you be interested?”

Harry considered Payne’s offer. He did have time and a bit of extra money never hurt and he pretty much made up his mind when Payne named a very nice figure as his salary.

“I must warn you though; my garden is in pretty bad shape. It’s more like a desert than a garden. It’s really depressing to come home and see that and I have neglected what little greenery there is because I’ve been very busy setting up my practice. I think my cook throws dish water out on the plants, but that isn’t enough is it? I’ve always wanted a beautiful garden but I’ve got the blackest thumb in this region. So you’ll have your work cut out for you.” Payne said, drawing a deep breath at the end of his spiel.

Harry blinked at the onslaught information and took a minute to take it all in and digest it. Then he nodded. “Well, I’ll need to see your garden and you’ll have to tell me how you want from your garden.”

“Yes, of course. Why don’t you come to my house the day after tomorrow and see the garden? I’ll make a list of what I want and give it to my assistant.”

“Alright. I’ll come by in the evening. And, if anything in your list seems impossible, I’ll tell your assistant?”

“Yes,” Payne nodded. “My assistant will note it down and also if you have any suggestions, mention it to her. Here’s my card.”

Harry took the card and they exchanged pleasantries before Payne left with a quick, harried gait that Harry associated with doctors.

Harry mentioned Payne’s offer to Tom when he had dinner with him and his husband, Daniel, the next day. Both of them approved and encouraged him to take up the job.

“Dr. Payne is a generous employer and kind too. Much better than Arbuthnot, I should say.” Daniel said, rolling his eyes when he said Arbuthnot’s name. Daniel ran a small dairy and his week was often punctuated by visits by an irate Mr. Arbuthnot, who complained long and loud about Daniel diluting his milk with water.

“Turned out, he was complaining to ‘keep Daniel on his toes. The nerve of that little bastard.” Tom said.

Harry snorted and said: “Oh, trust me; I know all about his ‘keeping people on their toes’ exercises. If I end up liking the job at Payne’s place then I’ll give my notice to Arbuthnot.”

“Arbuthnot will have an apoplexy. Be prepared for an outpour of complaints and accusations.” Daniel said. “He complained for ages when his last gardener got married and moved somewhere else, even though he’d given his notice 3 months before. Apparently, having a life that doesn’t revolve around Arbuthnot and ‘inconveniencing’ him is a sin.” Daniel’s normally calm face was red with anger and a vein was starting to throb on his temple.

“Forget that little rat. Harry, if you manage to impress Payne maybe he’ll recommend you to the Hawkins. They have such a huge estate and they pay their gardeners really well. I would’ve gone there, but now that I’ve got the Head Gardener position, I don’t see why I should start over as an under gardener.” Tom said, beaming widely when he mentioned being the Head Gardener. Daniel chuckled and leaned in to give Tom a brief kiss.

Harry jolted with surprise and a little fear when he heard the Hawkins being mentioned. “Wait. Payne and the Hawkins know each other?”

“Yes. I think they know each other from the city. They’re great friends apparently.” Daniel said.

Harry felt uneasy though he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the reason why this information had made him uneasy. The conversation drifted off to other topics and Harry pushed it away and concentrated on contributing to the conversation.

The next evening, Harry was greeted at the gate of Dr. Payne’s house by a scrawny, oil-faced boy of about 17 years, who puffed up with pride when he introduced himself as Dr. Payne’s assistant. Harry guessed that he was probably an errand boy who had elevated himself to the position of an assistant and Payne had probably gone along with it.

Payne’s house was an old and modest structure with vines creeping along on wall. The garden wasn’t as dreadful as Harry had feared, but it was in a state of obvious neglect, and though it would take a bit of hard work to make it presentable, it wasn’t unmanageable.

Payne’s demands weren’t outrageous or extravagant; he wanted lots of colourful flowers and a bed of herbs, some of those herbs were hard to find here, but the assistant assured him that Dr. Payne would provide Harry with the herbs.

When Harry asked the boy about the use of a bed of herbs that had only a few herbs that were used for cooking, the boy told him: “Dr. Payne uses them.”

“What for?” Harry asked, curious.

“Dunno.” The assistant shrugged and picked at the ring on his little finger.

“Right. Would you please take down some of my suggestions?”

The boy took down Harry’s suggestions on a small notebook and then asked him which days would suit Harry and then told him to start work a day later. Harry left Dr. Payne’s home, already forming plans for the garden.

**

 _‘I’m going to die because I’m stupid.’_ Harry thought as he stared at a merman who was bobbing up and down in the water, a few feet away from him. Harry wondered if it was the same merman as before because its face looked familiar. It was the same merman, Harry realized; when a cresting wave pushed the merman forward and Harry saw its human eyes.

Harry had meant to go the outcrop to Call, but he had been too busy day dreaming to notice that he had come to the cove. When he had realized that; he should have left, but he had felt too lazy to trek all the way to the outcrop and had convinced himself that nothing could go wrong and that nothing would happen.

He had just finished the Call when had seen a flicker of movement from his periphery. Harry had turned around with fear heavy like lead in his stomach and with grudging resignation because; well he had been stupid, hadn’t he? But, the merman had stayed where it was; its body blending into the sea water with only its head being visible. Harry could feel its gaze on him, but it didn’t feel threatening, only curious.

Harry wondered if he should say something or if he should just pretend that he hadn’t seen the merman, that the shape floating In the water was actually a rock that had a likeness to a merman and go back home. Though the second option was appealing, Harry knew that he had to face the issue, for this was the second time the merman had managed to remain unaffected by the Call.

Harry’s fingers clenched around the grip of the cutlass in frustration with the realisation that his options were limited to: threatening the merman or fighting it. It would stupid and reckless to fight it because for one; the merman was at an advantage in the sea and Harry didn’t want to end up drowning and secondly; Harry didn’t think his threats were going to stop it if it was hell bent on attacking humans.

Harry wanted to yell and punch something, preferably his grandfather because; Harry's knowledge about sea creatures was equivalent to that of a 12 year old who read stories about mermaids, and his grandfather hadn’t told him anything about the Call, like how to modify it to summon a sea creature, like he had been able to do.

“Look here!” Harry yelled. He had to do something and he was going to put the fear of god in that damned merman.

The merman didn’t react at all and continued floating in the water and staring at him and Harry felt uncomfortable and slighted. He flushed with anger and yelled at the top of his lungs: “Hey!”

He winced when his shout echoed in an eerie and awful way inside the cove, but it had its desired effect; the merman perked up and swam closer though it still kept well out of Harry’s reach. The light from Harry’s lantern hit the merman and once again Harry was shocked to his core at how ordinary the merman’s eyes were, how, except for the bluish tint of its skin, the merman could pass for human from head upwards.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. The waves drowned out your voice.” The merman said, as though they were mates and Harry had called out to it from across a crowded pub and it had failed to hear him.

The merman’s voice was raspy and a bit rough, as though it had not spoken for a long time and it had forgotten how to shape words and sounds. The most jarring thing however, was its accent, which Harry recognised. He felt incredulous and the slightest bit hysterical and his words died in his mouth.

The merman cocked its head, eyes curious and an uncertain smile on its face which looked more like a grimace. Harry jolted out of his stupor when the merman raised one of its brows in a perfect arch and Harry dug beneath layers of disbelief to pull out his buried words.

“Let me tell you, that if you or your friends ever dared to hurt humans, then you all will die a slow, painful death.” Harry said, feeling proud of how menacing he sounded. He angled his cutlass so that the light hit the blade and glinted off it for more effect.

The merman’s grimacing smile vanished and its eyes darkened. “I have no desire to hurt humans and besides the merpeople aren’t my friends.” It said in a quiet voice.

Harry licked his lips. He didn’t know much about the merpeople’s social structure, but surely they must have friends, right? Harry decided to call out the merman’s bluff. “Do you expect me to believe that?” Harry said with a scoff.

“Yes.” The merman snapped and rose up so that its chest was visible. Harry blanched at the ugly, purple-black bruises mottled its chest and stomach. Harry felt sick as he stared transfixed at a jagged cut on its flank that bled sluggishly. “Considering the fact that they did this; I don’t think they’re fond of me.”

Harry tore his eyes away from the cut and looked at the merman’s face, which was contorted in anger. Harry felt flustered and mortified and horrible and he was lost for words, for any words that wouldn’t sound offensive and cruel while his mind ran around in circles, trying to make some sense of the situation.

“I’m- I’m sorry! For your injuries, I mean- I,” Harry sputtered, growing increasingly flustered as the merman continued to glare at him. “Look, just don’t breach the water, alright? If you all keep to yourself then I wouldn’t bother you either.”

“Oh, don’t worry. The merpeople can’t breach the water. Your magic is quite effective.”

Harry felt anger flare, hot and blinding at the merman’s words. “It’s not any sort of damned magic.” He said.

The merman’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “What is it then? The merpeople can’t swim above the water, even the oldest merpeople who are supposed to be powerful.”

Harry bristled. “It’s not magic. The Call isn’t anything as-,” Harry sputtered, trying to recall the words John had used to describe magic. “As unnatural as magic! Magic doesn’t even exist!”

He was met with a look of abject disbelief. “Are you telling me that an invisible barrier that keeps away the merpeople isn’t magic? Because, that seems-”

Harry didn’t wait any longer. He swept out of the cove, ignoring the frantic calls of the merman and stormed back home, irritated and furious.

**

Harry pushed away his second meeting with the merman far away and didn’t waste any time or energy mulling over it, instead he focused all of his energy on his new job. It was a tough and exhausting; he pulled out what seemed to be a literal forest of weeds and it took almost four days to remove all of them. He then began making beds, a task that was time consuming and boring. Now that he started working here, he found himself more tired and with less free time, but his work didn’t affect other aspects of his life too much, so Harry didn’t give his notice to Arbuthnot.

Besides, the job at Payne’s house had turned up at the right moment. Harry’s roof had sprung a massive leak and Harry was glad that he wouldn’t have to scrimp much to get it repaired. Also, Harry had a feeling that his cottage had lost its ‘charmingly weathered’ appeal and was now just plain ‘weathered and old.’ He couldn’t afford to get a new house and he didn’t fancy paying for a room when he had a whole house which, hopefully, could be .improved with a few repairs.

After Harry had finished making the beds; Dr. Payne gave him packets of seeds and a sheaf of paper that had instructions about how to plant them. As Harry read through them; he was a bit dubious about how some of the plants would survive in Twilling’s environment, but Payne just waved his worries away. Harry ended up planting them, it didn’t matter to him anyway; Payne could deal with his failed garden.

Harry also stuck to his vow of not thinking about the merman anymore. Sort of. Well he did think about the merman’s words, but not about the merman specifically. There was a difference. Alright, so there was no difference; Harry realized glumly after he laid out his logic to Dusty and Dusty just blinked and walked away.

Harry sank back into his armchair with a huff and stared at the water stains on the ceiling. One of the stains looked like an elephant and the other stains were just shapeless and ugly. The merman’s insinuation that Harry’s powers were magic nettled him. Harry wondered for a moment, just a moment, if his powers were indeed magical in nature, but he scoffed and pushed it away. His grandfather had said that magic was unnatural for it forced a change in the natural world; it made things happen that weren’t supposed to happen. But, Harry was quite sure that it didn’t exist.

_‘He never said magic didn’t exist though and he hid a lot of things and lied about a lot more.’_

Now that he thought about, John had never explicitly said that magic didn’t exist. He had always talked about magic in a negative way, had warned Harry about it dangers. Harry had never given it much thought because, once when young Harry had asked John if their family was magical, John had scoffed and cuffed the back of Harry’s head.

That wasn’t a no either. So, did magic exist then? And if it did were his powers magical?

 _‘No.’_ Harry told himself firmly. His powers weren’t like magic. Magic was corrupted and people used it only for their benefit. His powers were nothing like that; after all it protected the town and wasn’t used for any selfish purpose.

Harry sprang up from his chair and paced about his room, looking for something to take his mind off mermen and magic. He picked up Gemma’s latest letter and decided to write a reply right now so that he could post it tomorrow. He couldn’t concentrate though and he could see that his letter was disjointed and perfunctory. He stared at his rather short and untidy letter with its multiple cancellations and ink smudges, and feeling shameful, he added a post script:

_‘Gemma, do you remember grandfather ever talking about magic?’_

The next morning he stood in front of the post box, hesitating over posting the letter. He didn’t really want to post this letter that was rather transparent about his aim of wanting information about magic, but at the same time, he couldn’t really wait any longer, nor did he want to spend time trying to come up with a more subtle way of asking for information because he knew that he would chicken out. He jolted when someone roughly poked his shoulder.

“Oi! Get on with it!” A gruff voice said behind him and poked him again.

“Sorry!” Harry said, flustered and clumsily pushed the letter into the post box.

He walked away before he did anything embarrassing like try to break open the post box to get out his letter and then get arrested for it. Posting that letter seemed like a bad decision now, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Harry felt a vaguely relieved now that the decision had been taken out of his hand, but also apprehensive about Gemma’s reply.

It was a hot day and the heat of the sun was merciless on Harry’s back; Harry could almost feel his skin cooking in the heat. Harry was restless and distracted, and the throbbing headache he had didn’t help matters. He just wanted to go home and cuddle Dusty and sleep, but he couldn’t just get up and leave halfway through his job. So, he gritted his teeth and continued work.

By the time he went to Payne’s place, he was sweaty, grimy and exhausted and he cursed himself for ever choosing gardening as a profession. He looked at the damp, cool earth in the beds and he sort of wanted to smear it all over himself just to get rid of the heat never mind the fact that he would look like a loon. Some sort of animal used this method too, Harry was sure of it, therefore it was all natural.

Harry felt the earth between his fingertips, sighed, and started planting the seeds. It was slow going since Harry took multiple breaks to drink water and mop up the sweat. He was sore and dead on his feet by the time he was half way done. He looked up with bleary eyes when the front gate creaked open and scrambled up, his joints popping when he saw that it was Mrs. Hawkins.

Mrs Hawkins swept inside and then paused, her gaze sweeping over the garden. Harry tried to make himself as presentable as possible; he straightened his shirt, pushed back his hair and mopped his forehead. He almost expected the buzzing to start and he braced himself, but Mrs Hawkins just nodded in approval and walked closer to him.

“You’ve done splendid work. The garden will be really beautiful when you’re done.” She said.

“Er- Thank you, ma’am.” Harry said.

Even Mrs Hawkins seemed to be feeling the heat; her forehead was beaded with sweat and she dabbed her face with a handkerchief. Harry’s eyes caught on a brooch that she was wearing. It was a simple brooch that had the letters NWS embossed in it in an elegant script. Harry wondered if it referred to some society - ‘National Women’s Society’ perhaps. But Harry couldn’t recall any society or club that functioned in Twilling. Maybe, it was from the city.

“Keep up the good work, Mr-?” Mrs Hawkins said, raising a brow.

“Harry Styles.”

“Keep up the good work, Mr Styles. I think we’ll be meeting again soon.” She said and walked away leaving Harry confused. Did she obliquely say that she may offer Harry a job in the future or did she mean that she would be coming here more often?

Whatever she meant; Harry didn’t care to figure it out because all he cared about right now was finishing his job and going home. Harry stretched, cracked his knuckles and got back to work.

**

Harry couldn’t sleep even though he felt exhausted down to his bones. It was as though a floodgate had been opened in his mind; his mind was swirling with thoughts and speculation and memories about magic and sea creatures. He tossed and turned, working up a fine sheen of sweat, but he wasn’t able to shut off his mind. He finally gave up and got out of bed and opened the window to get rid of the muggy and suffocating air in the room. It turned out to be a futile effort for there was no air blowing outside.

There was a deathly silence outside and it was so quite that he could hear the sound of the waves without having to strain his ears. Not a single light was shining and it was so eerie that Harry shivered and shut the window. His sweat dried leaving his skin sticky and his hair stuck to the nape of his neck. Harry wanted to scream in frustration.

He lit a lamp and paced about, trying to quieten his racing mind, but he was unsuccessful. An image of the merman popped up unbidden in his mind: the bruises on its chest, its human eyes and how it was unaffected by the Call and how it had said that the other sea creatures were affected by it. Harry froze as he remembered their first meeting, remembered the words the merman had said. _‘I’m human and I’ve been cursed.’_

Harry’s heart started beating at a frantic pace and a cold sweat broke out on his skin. What if the merman was really a human? That would explain all the anomalies: the eyes, the ability to speak and breach the water and would also explain why the merpeople seemed to hate it.

 _‘Sea creatures are vicious and tricky!’_ His grandfather’s voice pierced through the blaring panic in his mind, but Harry shook it away. It made no sense. If this was a plan to attack humans then it was an awful one if only one of them was able to come above the water. Then again; he only had the merman’s word that other sea creatures weren’t able to come up. But, if they were able to then they should’ve tried by now; there must be some reports of sightings or attacks, but there were none. Only this odd merman had ever come above the water.

 _‘Cursed.’_ Harry thought. The merman had said it was cursed. That was magic, right? Harry trembled at the sudden revelation, his mind going quiet when he realized the implications. If the merman had indeed been cursed then it proved that magic existed and his grandfather was right about magic. Magic was corrupt and magic was used only for personal gains and to hurt people.

Harry clenched his fist and swallowed, his mouth was as dry as a desert. He had to know, he had to meet to the merman and hear its story.

 _‘But how? How can I meet the merman?’_ Harry was at a loss. Both the times, the merman had come to him, how was he supposed to find it? He didn’t know how to summon one like his grandfather, so what was he supposed to do?

In the end, Harry decided that he would go to the cove and hope that the merman came to him. That was the only thing he could do. Decision made, Harry went to bed and tried to get some semblance of sleep, though now he was more awake than ever.

Harry walked to the beach the next with gritty eyes, a heavy head and grim steps. He went to the cove and wrinkled his nose at the smell of fish that assaulted his nose. As he Called, his eyes searched the vast, formless seascape and his heart jolted a few times when he thought he saw the merman, but sank when they turned out to be tricks of his mind. Harry stood waiting in the cove for a long time after he had finished the Call, waiting watching, praying. He left at last when he was at the risk of running late for work, and left with disappointment heavy in his heart.

It was yet another hot day, and the day positively _crawled_ through the hours, ticking away at a glacial pace. Today, however Harry got some sleep at night and he woke up in the morning with his nightshirt soaked through. The second day was much the same; the merman didn’t make an appearance and on the third day, desperation welling inside him, Harry shouted for the merman.

“Hey! Merman! Come here, I want to talk to you!” Harry yelled, and cringed at how foolish his words sounded. The merman had told its name hadn’t it? Liam, was it? No, that was Dr. Payne’s first name. Lucas? No, not that. Harry paused and thought hard about their first meeting. Yes, it was coming to him; it was on the tip of his tongue – Louis? Yes! The merman’s name was Louis.

“Louis! I want to talk to you! Please!” Harry yelled, and then cringed yet again when his words started echoing. He stoically bore the feeling of foolishness and embarrassment that was crashing on him like a tidal wave and waited for the merman. The merman didn’t come.

The fourth day dawned gloomy and grey with clouds rolling and thundering in the sky. Harry was relieved that they were finally getting rain after four days of scorching heat that felt like the fires of hell had come on earth.  Harry went to the cove, finished the Call and shouted out for Louis again.

“Louis! If you can hear me, please come here so that we can talk!” Harry yelled. He took a deep breath to shout again, but yelped and skittered back when Louis suddenly came up with a splash.

“Why do you want to talk to me.” Louis said, voice devoid of any intonation or emotion.

“Thank god! I wanted to talk to you because, well I’ve been thinking about what you said about being cursed and about magic, and I wanted to hear the whole story. Will you tell me what happened to you?”

Louis’ eyes became even more guarded and wary. “Really. What changed your mind, then?”

Harry paused, unsure of how to reply. “I’ve been thinking a lot?” He said tentatively.

Louis snorted. “Good for you then.” Louis hesitated and then in a hopeful yet disbelieving voice said, “Will you help me, if I told you everything?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply and then froze with dawning horror when he realized that he had been referring to Louis as ‘it’ all this time as though he was a thing. Guilt burned a hole in his heart, his mouth bitter with disgust.

 _‘Louis is merman though.’_ He thought, but then felt hypocritical. He couldn’t believe that Louis was a cursed human and then still go about referring to him as ‘it’.

Harry swallowed and said, “I know that you don’t trust me, and I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved. But, I can’t promise you that I’ll be able to help.”

Louis looked at him steadily for a moment and then nodded. “OK. But keep in mind, if this is a trick, I’ll- I’ll drown you!”

“And if this is a trick on your part, then you’ll find yourself at the wrong end of my cutlass.” Harry said benignly. He may believe Louis, but wasn’t going to let down his defences completely.

“So we have an understanding. What do you want me to tell you?”

Harry chewed his lip, thinking. “Tell me what happened just before you ended up like this.” Harry said, and waved a hand down Louis’ body.

“Well, I can’t tell you much because I was drunk when this happened. I and my friends were walking along the pier after a night of drinking, and we were pissed and loud – I think we were singing some ribald.” Louis paused, frowning in thought.

“I don’t remember what exactly happened, but one of mates got into an argument with an old man. We – um, we went to support him, I think. The old man walked away when he saw us coming and then, and then the old man shoved me, it was like lightning had hit me in the chest, and I was sober for one moment before he shoved me again and then I fainted. I woke up like this.” Louis said, and waved a hand down his body, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a faint smile.

Harry stared at him. “Lightning?” he asked, his mouth dry and his voice reedy.

“What? Oh! Yes, that’s what it felt like.” Louis shrugged. “It felt awful, let me tell you.”

Harry licked his dry lips and stared at Louis, not knowing what to say.

“Are you alright? You look a bit peaky.” Louis said and swam a bit closer to him.

“I’m fine.” Harry said reflexively. The cove felt small and suffocating all of a sudden and Louis’ gaze felt like a lighthouse’s light trained on him, exposing him when he just wanted to hide. His skin crawled and he was sweating; a bead of sweat tickled his skin as it slid down his chest. Harry scrambled for some topic to break the silence and to find something else to concentrate on.

“Your injuries- are they better?” Harry asked, his voice a tad high.

“They’re healing. I just swim the other way when I come across any merpeople and they’ve stopped bothering me ever since I started-,” Louis broke off, and his eyes flicked from side to side. “Ever since I started living somewhere else.”

“I see. Do they hate you because you’re so different?” Harry asked before he could stop himself.

“I think,” Louis said slowly, picking his words, “They’re wary of me. I look like a human, you know, and I can’t speak their language. They probably think I’m an intruder who wants to attack them.”

“You can’t speak their language” Harry’s curiosity sharpened and he leaned forward. The light of the lantern flickered across the upper half of Louis’ face and the lower half of his face hidden in the shadow. His eyes looked dull and tired. Harry had never noticed how thin Louis was; his face was gaunt and haggard and his cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken.

“No. I tried talking to them, but they just stared at me and then tried to attack me. They know that I don’t fit in with them, that I’m not actually a merman.”

“Oh.” Harry said.

Louis hummed in reply. “So, what do you think? Can you help me?”

Harry was stuck between a rock and a hard place. What was he even supposed to say? That he had felt the same thing that Louis had felt, he had felt lightning course through his body, but Harry didn’t know how that could be possible considering the fact that his powers and this curse weren’t the same.

Harry was still grappling with the possibility of existence of magic and he knew next to nothing about his own powers. He had been selfish, coming here under the pretext of helping when in actuality he just wanted to know if magic could really exist.

“I need some time.” Harry said finally, keeping his reply as evasive and vague as possible. He picked up his lantern and got up. “I need to go now.” Harry said.

“Alright. You’ll be here tomorrow - er, I never asked your name, did I? How ill-mannered of me,” Louis said.

“It’s Harry.”

“Harry.” Louis said, testing out his name. “Will you be here tomorrow, Harry?”

“Yes, I suppose. It depends.”

“OK. Well, see you then, Harry.” Louis said, sounding disappointed.

Harry nodded and left.

Guilt sat heavy on his chest and corroded him from the inside. Harry knew that he had not explicitly promised Louis anything, but it still felt like he’d tricked him and given him false hope. Harry was miserable, and he noted with poetic relish that the sky reflected his mood perfectly. Harry’s amusement faded a moment later with the realisation that he was just as lost today as he was yesterday and even the meeting with Louis had only given rise to another question. It was the worst feeling; this feeling of being lost and this fruitless search in every direction which always led back to the same place from where he started.

He was broken out of his musings by footsteps approaching him, and Harry quickly started watering the plants, the tips of his ears warming. He was an industrious worker, alright; he was just distracted because there was a lot going on right now.

“Hello.” Payne said as soon as he reached Harry.

“Good Morning, Doctor.”

“The plants are growing quite well, aren’t they?” Payne said, sounding pleased. He bent down and rest his hands on his knees to get a better look at the beds.

Harry looked at the plants and then squinted when he noticed that; while the plants were growing quite well, they were also growing at a suspiciously fast rate.

“That’s strange.” Harry murmured.

“Oh, it’s probably that special fertilizer I got from the city. It is all of a rage there. Makes it possible to grow gigantic morrows it seems.”

Harry nodded, but his eyes were arrested by the signet ring on Payne’s finger which had NWS engraved on it. Harry recalled that Mrs Hawkins’ brooch had the same letters and he wondered if it was coincidence. They both couldn’t belong to the same club, could they? Or maybe it was a mixed club. Harry hadn’t ever heard of a mixed club, but perhaps they existed in the big cities. The explanation didn’t sit with Harry for some reason; he felt like he was missing something.

“I’ll let you get back to work. I’m just here to receive a friend of mine. He should arrive any moment now.” Payne said and Harry tore his eyes away from the ring and nodded.

Payne walked about the garden, but kept out of Harry’s way as Harry worked on it. Fifteen minutes later a horse cab drew up to the gate and Payne gave a cry of happiness and rushed to the gate. A blond haired man alighted from the cab, and Payne embraced him as soon as he entered the gate. As they passed by him; the man’s blue eyes fell on Harry and Harry had a feeling that he was seizing him up, but the man just gave him a cheery wave and then followed Payne inside the house.

It started to drizzle sometime in the late afternoon and built up to a steady downpour by evening. A puddle on the floor of his house reminded him that he hadn’t called anyone to repair his roof. He sighed and mopped the floor before placing a pail under the leak and another pail under another leak that had sprung on the roof. Harry was bored; Dusty was in no mood to be cuddled and had slinked beneath the cupboard, and he still hadn’t received any letters from Gemma. Harry cursed the slow and lumbering mail system, picked up the newspaper, and flipped through it aimlessly.

The only sounds in the room were the plinking sound of water hitting the pail, the steady drumming of the rain against the window and Dusty’s occasional purr. Harry hummed a jaunty tune to distract himself, but stopped because the sound seemed discordant and out of place in the sombre silence of the room. He ate a silent dinner and then went to bed early, his heart aching with loneliness.

Harry hadn’t really meant to go to the cove - he was that sort of person who strived to avoid awkwardness at all costs – but his feet took him there anyway. The cove was empty when he reached there, and he Called in a lack lustre way because he couldn’t really muster up any enthusiasm. As usual, Louis made an appearance as soon as he finished his Call.

“Hello, Harry the gardener.” Louis said and lifted his hand in greeting.

Harry was startled. “Wha- How did you know I’m a gardener?” Harry demanded.

“Your boots are caked with garden soil,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes. “I didn’t flop awkwardly through the streets to come spy at you.” He huffed.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I was just surprised.” Harry said.

Louis swam forward and crossed his arms on the rock and propped his chin on top of his hands. Harry crouched down and placed his lantern beside him; it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but Harry didn’t fancy sitting on a wet rock, so this would have to do.

“I always thought gardeners were odd, you know. Why would anyone like to kneel in the mud and get their hands dirty with soil and compost?” Louis said with a shudder. “But to each his own.” Louis said with a benevolent shrug.

“Hey! It’s not that bad. I find it relaxing and fun though sometimes it does get a bit boring. Plus, if your employer is an arsehole that demands idiotic stuff and has no knowledge about gardening refuses to listen to you, it becomes a pain to work.”

“Yes, I know. One family I knew, refused to listen to the gardener when he told them that a tree that was too close to a window was rotten and had to be cut down. They said that it ‘gave the house character.’ The next time there was a storm, the tree fell. They were lucky that it happened during dinner time and they were all in the dining room. It caused a lot of damage to the house and the carpets in the room were ruined due to the rain, but on the brighter side, they got plenty of firewood for winter.” Louis said.

Harry snorted but sobered up quickly. He had to tell Louis that he wouldn’t be able to help him. It seemed cruel - giving Louis a sliver of hope and then snuffing it out, but it was better than letting Louis nurse his hope.

“Louis, um-” Harry began, his tongue heavy like stone in his mouth. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry but I don’t know much about magic or curses to really help you and I’m just- I’m really sorry.” Harry said in a rush, stumbling over his words.

Louis’ face went blank, and Harry was suddenly aware of how animated Louis’ face was usually when faced with this stony, shuttered look. Louis took a deep breath and looked Harry in the eye and held his gaze. Harry swallowed, a bit flustered by the intense attention.

“I- I realized,” Louis said, voice cracking a little. “I thought you would be able to help me, but that day when you snapped at me for calling your powers magic and said that magic didn’t exist, I realized that you didn’t know much, definitely not enough to help me.”

Harry felt a flare of hot anger at Louis’ words. Yes, Harry knew that he didn’t know much, and he accepted it, but having his ignorance brought out in the open rankled him. Angry words burned on the tip of his tongue and he was going to spit them out, but Louis spoke again before he could say anything.

“It’s not your fault, I suppose. I don’t know anything either. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I’ve been cursed, and that it wasn’t a hallucination or the merman-ness in my blood showing up suddenly. None of my relatives could’ve, well, taken up with merpeople, so to speak - they all live in the inlands.” Louis said with a wry smile.

Harry’s anger fizzled away and at a loss for words, he said, “I’m sorry.”

Louis didn’t seem to have heard him, his eyes were far away. “That’s why I moved to Ryson, to live near the sea, because I was bored of living inland.”

“You’re from Ryson? You’re in Twilling right now.”

“Oh. I just swam as far as I could from Ryson because I was scared that the old man would come for me. I didn’t care where I went.” Louis said and looked to surreptitiously wipe his eyes.

“How did you find me?” Harry asked, trying to change the topic.

“The merpeople never went above the water, but I could, and I didn’t understand why. I took me a while to realize that they _physically_ couldn’t. Then I started noticing stuff, how every morning there were these ripples? They weren’t like waves or anything else, and they merpeople always scattered when it came, so I realized that this is what made it impossible for them to come above the water. I followed the direction from where the ripples came from and I found you.”

“I see.” Harry said.

It was very silent in the cove, and Harry squirmed, uncomfortable. He hated this type of silence.

“I never thought I would end up like this. I was so proud when I got a job in that school, I was popular there, I thought I would be made the head of a house in two or so years and then I would find a nice man and settle down. I- I, look at me now.” Louis gave a bitter, barking laugh.

Harry stayed silent, his heart aching for Louis. Everything that Louis had had been ripped away from him for no reason at all. Harry felt anger simmer in his belly against the horrible people who used magic and magic itself for ruining a person’s life like this. Harry wanted to desperately help Louis, but he had no idea of how to help him.

“I miss my family and my students and my life. I’m so lost.” Louis said, a few tears slipping from his eyes.

Harry reached forward tentatively and put his hand on top of Louis’ and gave a gentle squeeze. Louis’ hand was cold and bony and the webs between his palms felt foreign under Harry’s palm. Louis sniffled and looked away, but he didn’t pull away his hand.

They sat together in silence and watched the sunrise.

**

Two days passed in this fashion: Harry went to the cove in the morning, Called and then waited for Louis to show up. He then spread out his oilskin that he’s started bringing with him on the rock and sat down. Louis and Harry then talked, and then lapsed into silence to watch the sunrise together. They shared information about themselves; Louis told him about his mother and his many sisters, and Harry told him about Gemma, and also spoke stiltedly about his grandfather. They always met in a dank cove, and one of them had a tail, but Harry rather thought that they were becoming friends.

Another morning passed like this, and Harry went to work in full expectation of a normal day, but today was the day when everything changed. Harry had no inkling of this of course; he went to work in a cheerful mood, already planning out an evening in the pub.

Harry was working on Payne’s garden when his assistant approached him and told him that Dr. Payne wanted to see him. Confused, Harry put down his tools, washed his hands and brushed his clothes before following the assistant. When the assistant put a hand on the doorknob, Harry realized why he had felt as though he had missed something that day when he had seen Payne’s signet ring. The boy was wearing a similar one, though smaller than and not as ornate as Payne’s. How could a seventeen year old boy; who didn’t belong to the same class as that of a well to do doctor, or a rich lady be a part of the same club as them, Harry had no idea, but a queasy feeling of uneasiness took root in his stomach.

He was led inside the house, and after walking through a small passage, they reached a massive double door which the assistant opened for him, and as soon as he entered the room, the assistant closed the door behind Harry. It was a nice room with a beautiful carpet and huge windows through which sunlight was streaming in. A massive dog lay snoozing near the windows, his coat glowing with health in the light of the sun. The furniture was tasteful and sitting on them were Mrs Hawkins and that blond man. Dr. Payne was standing near a bookcase, his back ramrod straight and his arms folded across his chest.

The queasy uneasiness in Harry’s belly turned to outright discomfort under their scrutiny, and his mind was sounding out an alarm.

“Please take a seat, Harry.” Dr. Payne said and Harry sank on the sofa opposite Mrs Hawkins.

“Hello Mr Styles. My name is Niall Horan.” The blond man said. He had a thick brogue and a disarming, friendly manner, but Harry noticed that his eyes were sharp and intelligent.

“Hello.” Harry said, more out of instinct than as a genuine greeting.

“You must be wondering why we’ve called you here,” Horan said and continued speaking before Harry could reply. “Let us start from the beginning; it will be easier to follow. Is that alright?”

Harry nodded. Payne moved away from the bookcase and sat down beside Mrs Hawkins. There was a brief moment of silence, broken only by the soft flutter of the curtains in the breeze and the dog’s gentle snores. This must be an amazing room to read in, Harry thought absently.

“We belong to a society called the Natural Wonders Society,” Horan said. “I met Mrs Hawkins in a... let’s just say in a very bad situation, and we realized that we had something in common. So, we began this society.”

“NWS.” Harry murmured.

“Yes.” Mrs Hawkins said. “We chose this name because having the word ‘magic’ in a society’s name is the most assured way to invite unwanted scrutiny and talk. Not to mention audits.” Mrs Hawkins said, gritting her teeth at the word ‘audits.’

“You’re not following the proper order. Harry must be confused,” Payne said reproachfully.

“You’re right, Dr. Payne. Well, what we had in common was magical abilities. We realized that there must be more people like us, lost and alone and ignorant and fearful about their magic, and we wanted to help them.” Mrs Hawkins said.

Harry was speechless with disbelief. He clasped his hands together, and found them cold and trembling. This wasn’t what he had expected at all.

“You’re one of us, Harry. We know that you’re the one who does magic on the sea to keep away the creatures. So, we want you to join our society and learn more about your magic, and then you will be able to help others too.”

Harry had started believing in magic, had accepted that it existed, had wanted answers about magic. This was an opportunity to get some answers, but. But, these people used magic themselves and they couldn’t be trusted at all, Harry knew firsthand what these people were capable of and how magic could hurt innocent people. So, in his shock and outrage, Harry exploded.

“You’re all corrupt, and – and disgusting! I don’t want to be a part of your damned society.” Harry yelled, standing up with a jerk.

“Mr. Styles -” Horan began, but Harry steamrolled over him.

“I know what magic does; I know what you people do. You hurt people and you have the damned guts to lie about helping people!” Harry said, trembling with rage.

“Mr. Styles! What do you call your magic then? You use it too!” Mrs Hawkins said, her usually careful voice, cold with anger.

“It’s not magic.” Harry roared. All the feelings of confusion, and anger and his frustration about his grandfather poured out of him, and Harry lost all his ability to control his mouth.

“God! That’s the stupidest I’ve ever heard!” Payne said.

“I use my powers to protect people. It’s nothing like magic which you use for your own gains!”

“Just like his grandfather then.” Horan muttered.

“Yes.” Mrs Hawkins agreed.

Harry’s fury vanished and was replaced with shock and a sudden feeling of exhaustion. He stared at Horan.

“What?” He croaked.

“We knew that your grandfather had magic, powerful magic. It has seeped into the land, you know. We came here to talk to him, and he said the same things you’re saying. The only difference is that he spoke with more conviction.” Horan said.

Harry opened and closed his mouth, his mind too frozen to think. Harry had experienced this sort of surreality twice in his life: when he and Gemma had thrown soil on his mother’s casket at her funeral and when he had been in the cove for the first time with his grandfather. He was disoriented as he was then, utterly speechless and motionless, incapable of any human action. Payne walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder to push him down onto the sofa and handed him a glass of water. Harry stared at the glass.

“I can’t believe I have to teach a grown man about good and bad, but listen here, Mr. Styles,” Mrs. Hawkins said. “Magic is like a knife. A knife is only a knife; it has certain qualities attached to it. If a person wants to hurt someone, then he’ll use the knife to hurt that person, but a person who had no intention of hurting anyone, will use it to cut and chop vegetables or meat.”

“Exactly.” Payne said. “Magic that exists on earth is benign, inactive, so to say. We are the conduits; the effect that magic has depends on the way we use it.”

“And you use your magic to protect people, and not to harm anyone. Just like Liam does.” Horan said.

Harry raised tired, quizzical eyes towards Payne, who rubbed the back of his neck in bashful way.

“You use magic to treat people?” Harry asked.

“Yes. But only a little though. I can’t cure them of their illness in one go. I’m a trained doctor, you know. Illnesses can be cured completely by medicines too, but magic speeds up the process.”

“Also, using only magic to treat people will give rise to suspicion. We don’t want a repeat of the middle ages now, do we?” Mrs. Hawkins said.

“Oh.” Harry said.

“You can take time to think about things, if you want.” Payne said kindly. “You can always ask us questions.”

“I need – I need time to think.” Harry said, in a voice that didn’t seem to be his own.

“Of course. Take your time.” Horan said.

Harry nodded and got up and walked through door and the passage and the gate on stilted, numb feet. He walked home barely aware of what was happening around him, and it was only when he had closed the door that he realized that he was still clutching the glass of water in his hand.

In a truly unwanted bit of serendipity; Gemma’s letter had arrived. He tore the envelop open, and skimmed through her letter until he reached the part where she talked about magic. She had written thus:

_‘How strange it is of you to mention magic so suddenly. I remember that he didn’t mention ‘magic’ much when we were young; it was only in his last year that he started talking about it. You remember right? All those talk about corruption and unnaturalness and other things. I do remember this though; it started soon after he met some people. You were out then, on a trip with Tom; grandfather mentioned that he was going to meet some people, which was strange because he almost never met anyone other than his friends. He came back all in a rage, shouting about ‘darned idiots who knew nothing, and magic my foot, and so on.’ He started all those warnings us magic after that. But, why...’_

Harry crumpled the letter, tossed it aside and buried his hands in his face and cried, overwhelmed and distraught. He cried because everything was different and nothing made sense, because he was overwhelmed and there was no one here to tell him that everything will be alright. He cried in that ugly, red in face, snot dripping, scrunched face way that left one drained and with a clearer head than before.

Dusty jumped up on his lap, and butted his chin in concern. Harry scooped him up and cuddled him closer, his tears lessening slowly. After his tears stopped; he sniffled, washed his face and burrowed into his blankets, barely blinking twice before he fell asleep. He slept for hours, and woke up sometime in the late evening with a rumbling stomach and a slight headache. He made a sandwich, and ate it without tasting it because he was lost in thought. After he finished eating, he picked up his biggest and brightest lantern and his oilskin, and walked to the beach. He wanted to talk to Louis right now, and he was ready to yell himself hoarse calling for Louis.

The beach looked beautiful in the twilight, the sky a riot of various shades of orange and yellow and pink. It was a low tide today, and the muted crash of the waves against the shore, and the hiss the water made as it withdrew soothed Harry. People were milling about, relaxed and happy, and the fishermen were bringing their boats in, the smell of fish filling the immediate area. Some kids were playing, their whoops and cries mingling with the sound of the gulls and crows. Harry watched the scene for a few minutes and then walked towards the cove.

The first thing Harry noticed when he entered the cove was the overwhelming smell of blood and fish, and the second thing he noticed was Louis sitting on the rock, a fish halfway to his mouth. Louis recoiled when he saw Harry, and shoved the fish away, and looked at Harry with wary, beseeching eyes, and all Harry could do was gape at him.

“Wha- What’re you doing?” Harry demanded, unable to stop the disgust curling around his words.

“I’m eating.” Louis said in a low voice and hunched his shoulders.

“Why are you eating raw fish? You could’ve told me, I would’ve gotten you something!”

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m a merman, and merpeople eat fish.” Louis said, his voice as cold and sharp as icicles.

“But-”

“Do you think I want to eat raw fish? Do you think it doesn’t disgust me? I tried not to eat fish for the longest time, but I only grew weaker, and made myself more vulnerable to the merpeople. Stop judging me!”

“That’s not what I-”

“You didn’t mean to sound disgusted, but it came out like that anyway, is that it? Keep your excuses with yourself.”

“You could’ve asked me for food. I would’ve given it to you.”

“I can’t eat normal food. I’ve tried; I used to steal a bit of bread and meat from the fishermen who docked near the shore. It only made me vomit.”

Harry felt shame settle like a brick in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t the least idea about what Louis was actually going through, and that for all the sympathy that Harry had, it didn’t translate to understanding. He hadn’t really made an effort to know Louis had he? He didn’t know much about Louis at all because he had only seen him as a merman and then as Louis the cursed human, and other than the bits and pieces they had shared about themselves, they were still strangers.

Harry took a deep breath and knelt down on the rock, uncaring about the water seeping in. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel as though you were disgusting. You aren’t – I’m, I don’t know what you’re going through, even though I may think that – just, I don’t know what I’m saying, but I’m sorry.” Harry said and winced at how lame and rambling his apology sounded.

Louis didn’t say anything, just stared intently at the fish. The fishes were really small, Harry noticed, certainly not filling enough for a grown merman. Louis sighed and pushed the fish into a hollow space in the rock and then turned to look at Harry.

“What’re you doing here?” Louis asked.

“I have to tell you something.” Harry said. He got up and laid down the oilskin and sat cross legged on it. Louis was only a foot away from him since was also sitting on the rock and wasn’t in the water as he usually was. Louis’ bluish skin was glistening with water, and Harry’s eyes fell on the gills on the side of his ribs. The skin of Louis’ stomach darkened towards his tail, turning greyish, and the scales on his tail glistened.

“Stop staring at me.” Louis muttered and ducked his head.

“Sorry. I was – I was telling you something, wasn’t I? Yes, um, right, I met some people today.” Harry said, flustered at being caught staring. “They said, well, actually they are people who use magic. Magicians? I don’t know what they call themselves, but they said that I have magic too, and they said that they’ll teach me more about magic.”

Louis was silent for a moment, ruminating over this information. “So, your powers are actually magic?”

“Yes.” Harry said and puffed out a breath. “You were right when you said that it’s magic. I’m sorry for snapping at you for that too.”

“Stop saying sorry, Harold. It’s alright.” Louis said. “Who are these people, anyway?”

“They call themselves the Natural Wonders Society and they apparently talked to my grandfather too.” Harry snorted. “He never told me that just like he didn’t tell me anything about everything else. ‘What is this power?’ Silence. ‘How come our family has this power?’ Nothing. ‘Is it magic?’ A cuff to the back of the head. He was that type, you know, that sort of person who firmly believes that children are meant to be seen and not heard. He barely left any papers, all the knowledge that he had died with him, and I just went on like I always did.”

Louis was silent and he watched Harry with big, sad eyes.

“They told me a lot of things. They said that magic is benign, that it’s the user who decides how to use the magic. They said that they use it to protect and help people.”

“Oh. Do- Do you think one of them will be able to break this curse?” Louis asked; his face lighting up with hope.

“I need to ask. I’ll of course ask them. I hope they can help you.” Harry said.

“Yes.” Louis said simply, but his voice trembled.

“I-,” Harry began, and then swallowed, the words feeling too big and too foreign to be spoken out loud. “I wonder if I should learn it, you know, magic.” Harry said in a hushed whisper, his gaze trained down.

“You want to learn magic?” Louis said carefully, as though he was making sure he had heard right.

“Yes.” Harry poked at the damp spot on his knee. “I liked it, the feeling of protecting people, keeping them safe from the sea creatures. Payne that is Dr. Payne, he’s a part of NWS; he uses a bit of magic to heal people. Also, I would like to know more about my powers.” Harry said with a shrug.

“It’s your choice of course, but I think it would be great if you learned magic. You jump to conclusions a bit, but you’re kind, I think. And your magic feels very powerful.” Louis said.

“Stop.” Harry said, and blushed a bit. “So, it’s the right choice then?”

Louis snickered at his blush, but sobered up and said, “I don’t know about right or wrong, but you have the right reasons, I suppose. Like I said, it’s your choice.”

“Alright.” Harry said.

“Do tell them, will you. About me.” Louis said, and flicked his hair away in a nervous gesture.

“I will.” Harry said.

“Thanks.” Louis said.

Harry shook his head. “Thank me later.”

Louis looked at him, and they held gazes for a moment, blue meeting green. Harry felt a spot of warmth bloom in his heart; it was as though he could see a bond forming between them. Harry smiled, and Louis reached out and poked at his dimple. His finger was icy, but he smiled, his sharp teeth flashing, and the warmth in Harry’s heart turned a little warmer.

**

Harry was very disappointed by the shortcomings of human nature. It was easier, he found, to talk about wanting to learn magic, and giving reasons for the same to Louis, than it was to actually go and talk about it to Payne. He didn’t have to go to Payne’s today, but that didn’t mean he _couldn’t_ go. It was just; it seemed very harrowing all of a sudden. Harry pushed away his thoughts and concentrated on his work because even Mrs Brown’s usually genial face had tightened when Harry pulled another flower along with the weeds.

After he finished work for the day; Harry took a walk around the town, enjoying the cool, evening breeze that ruffled his hair. His speed slowed down as he approached the part of town where Payne lived, and his steps faltered as he came nearer and nearer to his house. Harry didn’t go inside the gate when he finally came to the gate, but instead loitered outside, still unsure about how to approach this situation.

Presently, he became aware of eyes on him and when he turned around; he saw a pair of beady eyes and tufty brows glaring at him from the house opposite to Payne’s house. Harry realized that his loitering probably looked very suspicious, and with as much dignity he could muster, he opened the gate and walked in.

Payne’s assistant opened the door for him, and looked him up and down in a considering manner before leading him to the same room as yesterday.

“Dr. Payne is out right now, but he will be back in sometime. I hope you don’t mind waiting.” The boy said.

“No, I don’t mind. I’ll wait for him.” Harry said.

The assistant left the room, and Harry looked around appreciatively at the room again. It looked really tasteful in the light of the gas lamps, and Harry knew that when the flowers in the garden started blooming, their scent would waft into the room with the breeze. He looked up when he heard the sound of paws padding on the carpet, and he saw the huge dog looking at him, and it was wagging its tail in delight. Harry whistled, making the dog gambol up to him and in moments they were fast friends, with the dog trying to clamber up his lap to lick his face. A noise at the door of the room made the dog freeze, and when the door opened, the dog gave volley of joyful barks and launched itself at Payne.

“Down, boy. Down!” Payne said. The dog sat down on its haunches and Payne petted it before moving towards the sofa. The dog followed, pressing itself close to Payne’s feet.

“Hello! I honestly didn’t expect to see you back so soon. I rather thought I’d lost a good gardener.” Payne said.

“Er- well, here I am?” Harry said.

Payne grinned. “Yes. Here you are. What did you want to talk about?”

Harry didn’t reply immediately, taking time to marshal his thoughts into something coherent. “If I join NWS, what would it entail? What would I have to do? What would you teach me? What-”

“Just a minute, Harry. I’ll answer these questions first before moving on to the other questions. If you join NWS then other than being able to wear a piece of jewellery with NWS engraved on it, you will be taught about magic, and the limits and extent of your magic. When we’re done training you, you can either continue helping us with our projects, or you can carry on with your daily life. Or, you can do both.”

“Who would teach me? About magic and things?” Harry asked.

“Mrs Hawkins, mostly. Other times I’ll be teaching you. We do have an institution Warlington where there are more teachers, but I suppose you won’t need much training since you are already using magic in a sophisticated fashion.”

Harry flushed. “About that. Um- I only know how to Call – the, um, magic I do on the sea. I don’t know anything else about magic.” He said, tugging at his collar.

Payne looked at him in disbelief. “Surely you’re joking. Niall said that spell is very complicated. You’re joking, right?”

“No? I mean, I’m not joking. I just practised it every day until I got it right. My grandfather didn’t teach me anything other than that.”

Payne’s look of disbelief was getting more and more comical, and Harry wanted to laugh, but he managed to smother it. Payne smoothed out his face a second later, and rallied quickly.

“Of course, if you’re a complete novice to magic then it’s advisable to move to Warlington for some time to learn magic. We thought – well it doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t move to Warlington, Doctor. I have to Call every day. The effects of the Call fade away after a day.”

“Every day. They were wrong then.” Payne said, and he sounded disappointed.

“Who were wrong about what?” Harry asked.

“Oh. Mrs Hawkins and Niall – they’re attached to the research side of the NWS, they thought that the, er, the Call, is it? The Call was a long lasting spell on the sea that activated every morning, and that you only periodically strengthened it.”

“I see,” Harry said, feeling a thrill run through him in spite of himself. A long lasting spell that activated every morning sounded really exciting, better than ‘Call made at the crack of dawn.’ Harry deflated when he remembered that, right now, the latter existed and not the former.

“Do they research about curses too?” Harry asked, his palms feeling the slightest bit damp.

“Curses.” Payne repeated, and looked at Harry as though he was trying to figure out if Harry was joking or not.

Harry nodded. “Yes. Curses. You know, bad people using magic in a bad way?”

“No?” Payne said.

It was Harry’s turn to look at Payne in disbelief. “What do you mean? You don’t know about curses?”

“I need to know what you exactly mean by curses before I can reply.” Payne said; his voice cautious.

Harry was starting to get that queasy feeling in his stomach again; the one that he had got yesterday. “Harming someone with magic for a long time?”

“Well, if magic is used to hurt someone and the wounds don’t heal then-”

‘No. I mean-” Harry searched for words. “Transforming someone? Changing their physical form? Making them something they’re not?”

Payne looked really perturbed, and Harry’s stomach sank. Harry hurriedly added, “You must know about it, if you research about magic then you must know about curses, right?”

Payne took a deep breath. “After the witch hunts, we lost almost all information about magic, and herbs and other things. For years people like us just floundered, hiding and hoping no one would find out. It’s only now, after the NWS was founded, that we have started collecting information again, and though we’ve made a lot of progress, our knowledge is still nowhere near complete.”

“So you’re saying, you don’t know anything about curses?”

“I’m not saying that! We have only recorded instances of magic being used to physically hurt people, and not harm them. Of course, we miss a lot of instances because we don’t have much man power, but I suppose Niall or Mrs Hawkins may know more. You should talk to them.”

“And what am I supposed tell the person who has been cursed?” Harry demanded.

“Some has been cursed? Oh my-” Payne sounded excited, but he stopped when he saw the glare that Harry was aiming at him. “Er- you should talk to them. Tomorrow maybe?”

“Yes. I’ll talk to them tomorrow. They will be here?”

“Yes. Come here after you finish your work.”

Harry exchanged pleasantries with Payne, and then he left. Excitement warred with disappointment as he walked through the streets. He had a chance to go to Warlington, but he couldn’t go, could he? He had to protect the town, had to Call every day until the NWS managed to find out a long lasting spell. But, Payne had said that he along with Mrs Hawkins would teach him about magic, and that was better than nothing. Maybe, he could use whatever he learned about magic here and protect Twilling better. Could he make people resistant to magic?

Harry couldn’t spend too much time mulling over the possibilities of magic because as he neared the beach, his thoughts turned to Louis. He knew that Louis would not react well to this news – no one would, of course. He hoped that Niall or Mrs Hawkins would be able to shed some light on Louis’ curse, and would manage to break it at the earliest.

On a whim, Harry went to the cove though he didn’t really expect Louis to be there. Yesterday was probably a fluke though Harry couldn’t help but wonder why Louis had been there in the first place. So, he was surprised when he found Louis in the cove again, stretched out on the rock, and grooming his beard.

“Hiya!” Louis said cheerily, and grinned as he sat up.

“Do you stay here?” Harry asked as he went inside and crouched down.

Louis averted his eyes, embarrassed. “Yes. The merpeople don’t follow me here. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“No! I was just curious. You can stay here.” Harry said. The cove seemed like a horrid place to live in, dank, wet and cold, but Louis didn’t seemed to be bothered by it. ‘ _It probably wouldn’t bother me too if people came after me and this was the only place where I was safe.’_ Harry thought, feeling sad for Louis.

“Did you talk to them? What did they say?” Louis asked with an excited glimmer, his arms trembling a little.

Harry’s stomach sank like a rock, and he swallowed hard. He told Louis everything, watching with consternation as Louis’ faced changed from excitement to confusion to bewilderment to a shuttered stillness, only a tick in his jaw giving away what he was actually feeling.

“You must keep hope. They’ll find out something.” Harry said, after a few minutes had passed where Louis said nothing, and except for his harsh, strangled breathing there was no other sound in the cove.

“Keep hope.” Louis repeated in an ironic tone, and Harry winced. “Alright. I’ll keep hope. I’ll keep on hoping that you will one day learn enough magic to break this curse, or even better, I’ll keep on praying that two strangers, about whom I know nothing, will actually help me, and not whisk me away to a freak show. And while I keep hoping, praying and wishing for something to happen, I’ll also keep evading the merpeople who are becoming more and more vicious, and keep missing my family who must be devastated by now. Oh well, at least I’ll be busy. One thing I can tell you about this whole merman business is that it’s awfully boring.” Louis spat out.

“You’re the one who wanted them to help you!” Harry protested, but shut his mouth when Louis glared at him, a look filled with bitterness.

“I thought they would break the curse! God knows how they _research_. Maybe their research involves a trip to a big city, and then it would be advisable that I should be kept in a cage, and then maybe the next time my sisters see me, I’ll be the star attraction of a circus!”

“You’re – You’re rambling. You don’t know that! I won’t let them do anything to you. I promise, Lou-”

“You thought magic was malevolent until yesterday, and now you trust them with your life?”

“I want to help! Look, we can figure something-”

“I don’t think you can help me.” Louis said with a devastating finality ringing in his voice, and Harry was shocked to silence.

“Lou-” Harry began, but he didn’t get any further because Louis slipped into the water and swam away before Harry could say anything. Only the barest ripple in the water was proof that Louis had been here until a moment ago, and Harry stood alone in the tomb like cave, his eyes burning with tears, and his heart heavy with the feeling of failure.

Harry knew that his hopes that Louis will be back in the cove by the next morning would be invariably end in disappointment, but Harry still felt mournful as he stared at the empty cove. He Called listlessly, and yelled out for Louis a few times with no result. He left the fish that he’d brought with him as a peace offering on the rock and then left. He pushed aside all thoughts of magic and Louis and concentrated on his work lest he ended up being fired.

Payne’s garden was already on the way to blooming, Harry noticed, and he said “Magic,” in a solemn tone when he realized that, yes, it was in fact magic that made the plants grow at a faster rate. Harry washed his face after he had finished working, and went inside the house for his first lesson on magic. Both Mrs Hawkins and Horan were present in the room, and Harry saw a thick sheaf of papers and a stack of candles on the coffee table.

They exchanged pleasantries and Horan got straight to the point. “What was Payne saying about curses?”

It was probably due to the effect of Louis’ words that Harry felt that they were ghoulishly excited. Nevertheless, Harry picked his words with care, and told them about the curse.

“Interesting.” Mrs Hawkins murmured. “Cursed to be a merman, but with enough human features that the merpeople will never accept him, and obviously not human enough to ask humans for help. It’s... sickeningly clever, in a way.”

“Sickeningly malicious, more like.” Horan said. “We’ll need to see him, and ask him some questions. We have never encountered this, though of course curses have been a part of human lore since times immemorial. But, there is no proof. We have proof about the existence of healing magic and psychical abilities, though mind you, psychical abilities are very rare. People with true psychical abilities are more likely to consider themselves cursed rather than gifted. There are many facets of magic exist that we have no idea about. Yet. ”

“He’s gone.” Harry said, flatly.

“Gone? As in...” Horan said, shocked.

“No! I mean- he didn’t want you to research him. He thought that it’s just a ploy to sell him to a freak circus.”

“Of course we wouldn’t do anything like that.” Mrs Hawkins said, offended. “It would be pretty hypocritical of us considering the fact that we would be taken to such circuses if they knew about our magic.”

“Yes. But he thought so, and he left. I have no way of contacting him.” Harry said.

“I wonder if- er, the subjects of freak circuses were cursed too.” Mrs Hawkins said, frowning in thought.

The room was silent as they thought over it. It seemed too awful to comprehend. Horan finally broke the silence by saying, “I’ll write some letters and make enquiries. Try to contact him somehow; it isn’t safe for him to live among the merpeople.”

Harry nodded, and the topic shifted to magic. They asked him a lot of questions about the Call, and other things about magic, and though they both hid it well, Harry could see that they were disappointed by his answers.

“It seems that you have only a limited knowledge about magic. That’s fine. We can work around it.” Mrs Hawkins said bracingly.

Harry snorted. “Considering the fact that till two days ago I considered the Call and magic as two separate things, I think it would be better to say to say that I know absolutely nothing about magic.”

Horan laughed. “You’re very blunt aren’t you? Alright, let’s begin with the basics.”

They told him to light a candle with magic by concentrating his magic on his fingertips, and focusing on the intention of lighting a fire. It was similar to how he Called, but Harry found out that, mugging something up and then repeating it again and again was easier than applying it in a different context. His first lesson was a failure; he felt embarrassed by the scrutiny, and he couldn’t concentrate his magic on his fingertips, and by the time his lesson ended, his intention was to burn down everything, and not just light a candle.

Mrs Hawkins gave him the papers to read, and Harry left Payne’s house to go straight to the cove. There he found that the fish that he had left had putrefied under the sun, and was stinking to high heavens. Disappointed, Harry kicked away the fish into the sea and went home.

He took to leaving notes in the cove every morning, but it didn’t seem like Louis read them, and he certainly wasn’t present in the cove when Harry came by in the evening. Harry wrote a letter to Gemma explaining everything, and he got a blistering letter back that promised all sorts of comeuppance when she could finally get away from the city and come home. Harry also practised magic studiously, though his progress was slow and not at all exciting. Still, Harry persisted because if he was sure about one quality that he had, it was patience.

So, he practised for hours, trying to somehow pool is magic in the tips of his fingers and light a candle. Dusty kept him company as he practised, watching him curse and wiggle his fingers at a candle again and again. He managed to make a feeble spark after a week of practise, and two days later when he lights the candle; the buzz of his magic muted as compared to when he Called, he picked up Dusty and waltzed around his cottage, whooping in joy.

It was a day later that Harry truly experienced magic. The papers that Mrs Hawkins had given him contained information about magic, and laid out some simple exercises for learning how to control magic. It also said, _‘New practitioners of magic are advised not to overdo their magical exercises. It has been frequently reported that, after the first successful demonstration of magical skills, pushing oneself to complete yet another task leads to a ‘Magical Exhaustion Stage’ characterised by dulling of the senses, ringing in the ears, blurred vision, loss of memory, sensory overload...’_

Harry had read this, but hadn’t considered it with any seriousness. After all, he had Called and then practised magic and had never felt any ill effects, had he? So, he pushed himself just a little bit more, and then regretted it when his vision started blurring. He leaned back on the chair, glad to have something solid beneath him, and he waited for the blurriness and the pounding headache that had started to pass.

It was a very odd sensation, this ‘Magical Exhaustion Stage’, Harry thought as colours started blooming before his eyes. Were his eyes open? Yes, he could see the ceiling. His ceiling was drab, Harry was sure of that, then why did it seem so colourful all of a sudden? Harry blinked sluggishly, and focused on the beat of his heart to take his mind off the high pitched whine in his ears. His heart beat was fascinating, Harry found, as he lost himself in the reassuring thump of his heart.

He frowned as he felt a new sensation – lightning. It was like tendrils of lightning were moving upwards from his toes to his calves to his thighs and towards his upper body. Lightning was also moving upwards from his finger tips and downwards from the top of his head. What was happening? Harry concentrated on the lightning, tracking its movements, he was the cusp of something, he knew it, he just had to reach out and –

He _exploded_. He was hypersensitive; every tiny bit of air brushing against his skin, and making his hair stand on edge, and the lightning coalesced into a ball of _something_ that buzzed so loudly that it over powered the ringing in his ears. He could  _feel_  the colour of that ball of something, gold, and blue, and red, and shimmering like crystal, and then colourless, the ball- no not a ball, a – a, Harry had no words, but it pulsed and throbbed with the beat of his heart, and then it dispersed, racing to every part of his body, his eyes flew open, his body trembling, and he felt invigorated, the buzz loud and overwhelming, and Harry saw every lamp, every candle and the fire place lighting up.

He sank back on the chair, exhausted. His eyes fell on Dusty, who was staring at him with wide eyes, his fur standing up. Harry grinned, big and maniacal.

“That was my magic. Hurrah!” Harry said, his eyes slipping shut, and he fell asleep in moments.

When he described his experience to Mrs Hawkins and Payne the next day, they were very disapproving.

“I’m sure finding out what your magic was like on the inside was very thrilling, but it is incredibly dangerous.” Payne said.

“Yes. Controlling the outward expression of magic takes a lot of time and effort, so poking at your inner magic when you’ve just started learning the basic of magic was very reckless and foolish.” Mrs Hawkins said.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to repeat that either. It was frightening. My senses went haywire.” Harry said, and shuddered.

“It seems that when you reached out to your magic when you were magically exhausted, it went on an over drive. A case of over compensation, I think.” Payne said in a very doctor-ly manner. “Don’t do your exercises, and rest for a few days. If anything feels wrong, come to me.”

Harry nodded. As exciting as knowing what his magic felt like was, Harry didn’t want to go through that bizarre, hallucinatory experience ever again.

**

A week later, when Harry came to the cove, he jumped with joy when he saw Louis sitting on the rock. He fell down on his knees, and pulled Louis into a hug. It was a very wet hug, but Louis smelled like the sea, and he was alive, and he was hugging back and that was all that mattered to Harry though when he broke the hug and looked at Louis, he saw that Louis looked exhausted and that he was wounded.

Harry jumped back, horrified at having pulled Louis into a hug when he was injured, and he started apologising profusely. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even see! God! Did I hurt you? Did I-”

“It’s alright, Harry. I’m fine.” Louis said, waving away his apologies. “The hug felt nice.” Louis admitted in a small voice.

“What happened to you?” Harry said; his stomach turning as he saw a bite mark on Louis’ shoulder that was bleeding.

“I think the merpeople are frustrated that they haven’t chased me away yet. They were relentless.” Louis said, his voice hushed with horror.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry, Louis. I wish I could help you.” Harry said, and his voice cracked.

Louis sighed. “I think, I should meet the NWS people.”

Harry gaped at him for moment, but quickly recovered. “Yes. They won’t ill-treat you, I promise. I’ll take them out with my cutlass if they do.” Harry said.

Louis giggled, and then winced. Harry saw new bruises on his chest, and he saw how painfully thin Louis was, how ill and sick. Harry’s stomach churned as dread pooled in, cold, bitter and thick.

“You’re my hero, all dashing and fierce.” Louis joked. “But, I won’t ever forget that scream that you let out when you first saw me.”

“Hey! That was your fault for coming out of the water like that, and scaring me. Admit it, you did that on purpose.” Harry huffed.

“I used to teach literature, Harry. I know the importance of a dramatic entrance.” Louis said loftily, and they both laughed together. Their laughter died down, and Louis wheezed, clutching his chest.

“I’ll go get Dr. Payne right now. Just wait here, alright? I’ll be back soon.” Harry said.

“Yes. Come back soon. I’ll get some sleep till then.” Louis said, lying back on the rock.

“It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” Harry said as he draped the oilskin over Louis.

“This is perfect. Better than a goose down pillow.” Louis said in a posh accent and Harry huffed out a laugh.

Harry ran all the way from the beach to the main street, and then forced himself to walk, not wanting to draw the attention of the milkmen or the vendor who were milling about. Harry gave Daniel a cheery wave when he passed him, and quickly walked on, not wanting to stop and chat. When he reached Payne’s house, he knocked loudly, and the door was opened by the assistant who looked very grumpy.

“You’re early to work, mate,” he said, and made a show of checking his watch. “By five hours.” He added.

“I need to meet Dr. Payne. It’s an emergency.”

“Come in and wait. He’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

Harry waited, and played with the huge dog to calm his nerves a bit. Payne came down exactly fifteen minutes later, and Harry was impressed. The assistant brought a flask, doctor’s bag and lantern which he handed over to Payne. As they walked to the beach, Harry filled him in about Louis’ injuries. They clambered down the rocks and went into the cove.

Louis woke up with a start when the light of their lanterns fell on his face. Payne walked forward slowly, and crouched down in front of Louis.

“My name is Dr. Payne, Louis. It’s nice to meet you. Here drink this,” Payne said, thrusting out the flask.

Louis looked at the flask. “I always appreciate the offer of alcohol, but I won’t be able to drink that.”

“It’s not alcohol. It’s warm water. I thought you might like something warm to drink.” Payne said. “Unless you aren’t able to drink water either.”

“I can definitely drink water.” Louis said, and reached out for the flask with eager hands. He fumbled to open it, his webbed fingers slipping over the top, but he managed to open it. When he took a sip of warm water, he looked so blissed out that Harry wanted to cry.

Payne question, poked, prodded, bandaged, and applied ointment on Louis with Louis hissing and cursing when Payne touched any injured spot. Louis looked exhausted by the time Payne was done, and just gave him perfunctory thanks before falling asleep. Payne and Harry were quite as they walked to the beach.

“I think we ought to call a meeting.” Payne said; his voice grim.

“Yes.” Harry said. “I’ll come by after I finish work?”

“No. I’ll tell Niall to be here during your lunch hour. You can take Louis something to eat, and Niall can ask him questions. After that we’ll meet at my house.”

Harry nodded, and they went their separate way. Harry tried to concentrate on his work because he didn’t want to deal with being fired on top of everything else. The hours till lunch passed slowly, in a torturous pace, and when lunch hour finally came, Harry was out like a shot. He stopped at the fishmonger’s and got some fish before going to the beach where, as promised, Horan was waiting for him.

Louis demanded that they leave him alone while he ate, so Horan and Harry stood near the mouth of the cove, and made small talk while Louis ate. Louis called them after he had finished eating, and they spread out oilskins on the rock and sat down. It was almost like a picnic except for the fact that Harry didn’t have much time to sit and chat. Also, one of them was cursed, and the other two were people who practised magic; Harry still didn’t know what the correct term was. Magicians sounded like those two bit tricksters who pulled out doves from their hats in circuses. Harry was brought out of his musings by sharp smack to the knee; he jolted, and grinned sheepishly at Louis, who only rolled his eyes.

“Right. I’m Niall Horan, and I’m one of the founders of Natural Wonders Society. Will you answer some of my questions?”

“I don’t mind answering your questions, but you have to tell me why you named your society Natural Wonders Society.” Louis said, one of his brows arching up.

“Magic is a wonder, and a part of nature, hence we call it Natural Wonders Society.” Niall said with a flourish. It was impossible to tell if he was just joking or if it was really the reason for the name, but Harry decided not to ask.

“Right.” Louis nodded. “But let me tell you this, I was really drunk when I was cursed, so I won’t be able to tell you much.”

“That’s alright. Just tell us what you remember.”

Niall’s questions and Louis’ answers didn’t really bring up any new information that Harry didn’t know, though with Niall’s prodding, Louis was able to flesh things out a bit. Apparently, the old man wasn’t someone known to Louis, and nor had he seen the old man around town, but that wasn’t uncommon because lots of people came to Ryson which had a booming ‘sea cure’ economy. He described the altercation, and then being pushed by the old man, and as he described how he’d felt lightning in the centre of his chest before he had fainted, an idea started stirring in the back of Harry’s head.

“So, what will you do with all this information then?” Louis asked. Harry noticed that this interview had tired him out, and that his eyes were looking droopy and heavy.

“Well, I suppose the most rational step is to investigate the man. If we find him maybe he’ll tell us how to break the curse.” Niall said.

“And what if you don’t find the old man? What will you do then?” Louis asked.

“We’ll take one step at a time. If we find the old man then our problem will be solved.” Niall shrugged.

“Alright. First of all, you can’t be sure that finding the old man will solve the problem, there are so many ifs and buts involved in this scenario, and I’m not going to waste my breath trying to list them out. Secondly, I just told you, hundreds of people come to Ryson every month. In fact, one of my students wrote a very heartbreaking story about how a boy fell for a girl and when he plucked up the courage to ask her out, she had gone back home, and there was a middle aged man sitting where she usually sat on the pier – I’m rambling, but my point is, tell me you have some other idea.” Louis said, taking in quick shallow breaths.

“We need to exhaust that possibility first before-” Niall began another diplomatic spiel, but Harry cut him off.

“I think I have an idea.” He said quietly, his mind still whirring.

“You do?” Louis said. “What is it?”

“Well, remember how that lightning you felt? And that moment of sobriety? I’ve felt something like that too.”

“Harry! Those two things are completely different! This is a curse, and not Magical Exhaustion Stage.” Niall said.

“Yes, I know.” Harry said. “But, I felt lightning and all the other stuff when I reached out to my magic.”

“We have no proof. You can’t play around with a man’s life just for some theory of yours.”

“I’ve felt it before too! My grandfather did something to my magic, I think. Kick started it, I don’t know. But, the literature you gave me said that people start showing magical abilities when they reach physical maturity. I could Call even when I was 12!”

Niall looked torn between agreeing with him, and scolding him. He took a deep breath, and then said, “I’m just going to hear out your crazy idea. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Yes, Harry. Your idea sounds more interesting than Neil’s idea.” Louis chimed in.

“Niall.” Niall corrected him only to be met with a look of distaste.

“Alright, so as I was saying, I’ve felt what you’ve felt Louis, and I think that you were cursed when the old man shoved you. It was the transfer of magic that felt like lightning and then the curse took root in you.” Harry said. His hands felt cold, his voice was trembling with excitement, and his brain was racing away.

“And then? How will we break the curse?” Louis asked; his gaze sharp and focused on Harry.

“I can transfer my magic in you, and try to destroy the old man’s curse?” Harry said.

Niall scoffed. “Right. No one has ever attempted that, and we’re not going to.”

“I like it.” Louis said, and sighed at the disbelieving look Niall gave him. “Look, I know you think I’m making decisions without thinking, but I don’t have time to think. I don’t know if Dr. Payne told you anything, but I don’t think my prognosis is good.”

“You can’t say that!” Harry protested.

“Harry, I’m sickly, I can’t breathe properly, I think I have pneumonia, and there’s this wound in my back that’s leaking pus. I can’t heal like this, and I’ll just keep weakening.”

“Merpeople can’t get pneumonia.” Harry said.

“Maybe, but I’m a cursed human, and not actually a merman.”

“I think pneumonia involves a lot more coughing.” Niall said absently.

Louis rolled his eyes. “What I’m saying is, I want you to try out this magic transfer thingy. If it doesn’t work then you can kick out Harold, and look for the old man. But magic transfer thingy first.”

“There are risks. We need to look at all aspects of this...solution.” Niall said.

“The biggest risk to me is just wasting away, and dying like this.”

“Louis, you don’t have to agree to my idea, maybe they can come up with something else.” Harry said.

“I’m all ears to any solution that will have an immediate effect.” Louis said.

Niall and Harry were silent. Then Niall sighed, and said, “I’ll have to talk to the others.”

Louis nodded, and relief was evident in his eyes. Niall turned to go, and Harry was about to follow him, but Louis called out to him.

“Will you stay with me?” Louis said, looking at the floor, and playing with his fingers.

“Of course.” Harry said, and sat down again. “Will you please tell Mrs Brown I’m ill and I won’t be able to come to her place today?”

Niall nodded and Harry gave him Mrs Brown’s address and then Niall left, and Harry and Louis sat in silence for a few minutes.

“How did the story end? The one that your student wrote?” Harry asked.

Louis laughed. “It devolved into a mess of improbable coincidences, and purple prose with more and more melodramatic situations. I loved it of course, but I couldn’t give him much marks. But, he had all the makings of an author who specialised in lurid books.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“Harry, the last line was ‘Robert couldn’t clutch Jennifer to his chest, so he clutched a knife instead, and he clutched it so hard that it pierced his chest.’”

Harry burst out laughing. “Are you sure he wasn’t inspired by your love for drama?” Harry teased.

“Shut up!” Louis snapped back playfully.

They talked for some time, but then Louis drifted off, tired out by the excitements of the day. Harry watched the shallow rise and fall of Louis’ chest, worry eating a hole in his heart. Mrs Hawkins, Payne and Niall came back an hour later, and Harry woke Louis up. The cove couldn’t really hold four adults, and a merman who were all in a combative mood. It hardly took five minutes for an all out war to start. Mrs Hawkins and Payne were against this idea while Harry and Louis were for it, and Niall swung somewhere in between.

“His idea is the only one that doesn’t involve twiddling my thumbs!” Louis said.

“His idea is based on a fluke! He mistakenly managed to touch his magic once! What makes you think he can do that again?” Mrs Hawkins said, her eyes glittering with anger.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at Harry. “I’ll practice?” Harry said feebly.

Payne snorted. “Louis, please think this through. Harry’s idea might seem exciting, and workable, but it really isn’t.”

Louis sighed loudly. “Just let him try! Or do it yourself! I don’t care, just break this curse already.”

“We can’t do it because no one has ever attempted it before, and Mrs Hawkins is right, it was a fluke on Harry’s part.” Payne said.

“Harry has an idea about what it feels like. If we train him maybe he’ll be able to do it. Besides, I don’t think Harry’s magic will harm Harry because it doesn’t have any mal-intent.” Niall said.

“Let’s compromise. Harry will practice, and then try it out on me, and if it fails then I’ll follow your ideas with no complaint.”

“That sounds reasonable, Eliza.” Niall said, turning to Mrs Hawkins.

“Fine! But if anything goes wrong then we aren’t responsible.” Mrs Hawkins huffed.

“I don’t like it one bit. But, I’ve been out voted so do what you like.” Payne grumbled.

Louis cheered weakly. They then decided on a plan of action before dispersing for the day. Harry lingered at the mouth of the cove, and wished Louis goodnight softly. Louis returned his greeting, his mouth tilting up in a soft smile.

**

Mrs Hawkins made Harry write down everything about his experience with reaching out, and touching his magic. They analysed it thoroughly, looking for anything that will help Louis, and trying to find a procedure for carrying out the magic transfer. The procedure they decided on was this: Harry would concentrate on his heart beat so that he went into a trance like state, and then he would slowly transfer his magic into Louis, and as more of his magic was transferred, hopefully Harry will be able to find the curse residing in him.

This required a lot of finesse, Harry found, when he accidently transferred too much of his magic to Niall, and ended up exhausted again. He practiced this for week, and spent time when he wasn’t working or practicing with Louis, talking and joking, trying to take Louis’ mind off things. After another week, Payne and Mrs Hawkins deemed him ready and Louis picked the very next day for the curse breaking.

Only Payne was present with them in the cove that day, at hand in case his medical expertise was needed. Harry’s hands were trembling, his mouth dry. Harry blew on his hands and rubbed his hands to warm them up, but even his breathing was shaky, so he gave up. Louis was quiet too, his enthusiasm from the previous week feeling muted. Payne was standing stiff, and tall at the mouth of the cove, his brows creased with worry. It was late in the evening, the air had cooled, and the sounds of children playing on the beach had long since faded. Only the barest sliver of sun was visible in the horizon, and Harry was so nervous that he wanted to vomit.

“So, I’m not feeling as gung-ho today as I felt yesterday.” Louis admitted, flicking his hair back.

“I don’t either.” Harry said.

“And I was never gung-ho about it.” Liam chimed in, and blushed before looking away when both Louis and Harry glared at him.

“I haven’t- I haven’t really prepared myself for disappointment, you know even though I should.” Louis said, lowering his voice.

“I feel confident about it, Lou. I’m nervous, but I did manage to successfully transfer my magic thrice.” Harry said, crouching down in front of Louis.

“If it doesn’t work, and if I say horrible things to you, don’t take them to heart. I- I understand that I didn’t give you much time to practice, or come up with more ideas, but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to handle the curse breaking if I become weaker.” Louis said, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m so scared.”

Harry leaned forward and rested his forehead against Louis’, and grasped his hand. “I’ll try my best, alright? And I’m here with you. I won’t let you get hurt.” Harry’s eyes were burning with tears too, and feeling overwhelmed, Harry brushed a kiss against Louis’ temple.

Louis shuddered when Harry’s lips touched him, and he tightened his hold on Harry’s hand. “Thanks.” He murmured.

“Thank me later.” Harry said, and yelped when Louis shoved his cold hand into the back of his shirt.

“You’re very gross, and very sappy.” Louis said.

“I’m glad to know that.” Harry said drily, and they both giggled.

“Alright, enough now. We have to start now.” Liam said.

“Right.” Louis said, and laid down flat on the rock.

“All the best, Harry. All the best, Louis.” Liam said, and withdrew.

The spotlight was now on Harry. Harry swallowed, his gaze flicking to Louis who gave him a minute nod, and closed his eyes. Harry wiped his damp palms on his trousers, took a deep breath, and took Louis’ hand again. He stilled himself, and his mind, and concentrated on his heart beat. It took some time, but slowly the sounds of Louis’ hitching breath, Liam’s nervous shuffling, the drip of water somewhere inside the cove, even the roar of the waves faded, muted by the steady _thump, thump, thump_ that resonated in Harry’s mind. Harry pooled his magic in his fingertips, and a dull buzzing sound started as Harry slowly transferred his magic to Louis.

It was strange; Harry felt his magic being channelled through his fingertips, and could still somehow see the path his magic was taking in Louis’ body. He channelled more of his magic, and eventually Harry could see his magic travelling through Louis’ body. It was a different sensation compared to when he channelled his magic through a magical person because he could almost immediately see their magic. But, with Louis, it was as though his magic was travelling in a placid, grey sea. Harry stretched out his magic to cover the entire length and breadth of the grey sea, and _there!_

It was subtle thing that thrummed and coiled out of sync with Harry’s magic, and blocked his way, slowed the progress of his magic. Harry reached out to it, and grasped it and recoiled when it tried to wrap around his magic, oily, dark and slippery like a snake. Harry fought against it, trying to force it down. He channelled more magic, and followed the oily, slippery thing, wrapping his magic around it until it didn’t thrum anymore, until it didn’t thrum or ooze and poured in more magic until the curse wasn’t blocking his path anymore, until he’d conquered every bit of it and when he managed to do that, something gave, and Harry’s magic just _flowed_.

Harry yelled as he was pushed back roughly, his shoulder hitting the wall of the cove with a sickening thump. He opened his eyes slowly, his vision a kaleidoscope of impossible colours, and his ears buzzing. When the buzz died down, he could hear high pitched, pained whimpers, yelling and _Louis!_ Harry fought to focus his eyes, but even the light of the lantern was painful, and he closed his eyes, and took deep breaths.

He then opened his eyes, and though his vision was still grainy, he could see things and he saw Liam picking Louis up bridal style, Louis’ legs hanging limply over the crook of Liam’s arms. Then it hit Harry - _LEGS!_ Louis had legs! Harry got up and fell down, his head spinning, and he yelled for Louis, and Liam turned and shouted at him.

“Stay down! Niall will come and get you! I’m taking Louis to my house.”

Harry tried to get up again, but his legs were trembling violently, and his ears started ringing again. Eventually someone pulled him up, and dragged him out of the cove. The breeze that hit his face felt damned good after the closed, suffocating air of the cove. Niall sat him down on a rock beside Mrs Hawkins who shoved a flask of brandy into his hands. Harry sipped it slowly, feeling his strength return bit by bit, though he was still trembling.

“You broke the curse.” Mrs Hawkins said.

“Yes, I did.” Harry said simply.

“Three cheers to you mate.” Niall said, then grabbed the flask from Harry, and raised it as a toast.

The three of them sat on the rocks, and shared the drink as they watched the stars twinkling in the sky.

**

Harry recovered from a bout of magical exhaustion that followed the curse breaking in a day, but Louis wasn’t as lucky. He got a fever, and it spiked to alarming levels in the next two days. He was dangerously underweight, and had an infection, and his ribs were bruised, and his legs were severely atrophied. Liam told them that it he would use magic on Louis only after Louis’ fever went down, and his infected wounds healed, and he strictly forbade them from meeting Louis till he was a little more stable.

Niall went to the school where Louis worked to get information about his family, and then informed his family. The story they gave Louis’ mother was that when the old man had pushed Louis, he had fallen and hurt his head, and had floated all the way to Twilling, and had been in a coma since then. It was full of loopholes, but it was the only plausible explanation for Louis’ disappearance that they could come up with, and Louis’ family was so relieved and grateful that he was alive that they accepted it.

Louis’ fever broke, and he managed to keep to keep down semi solid food, and then solid food and Liam started all sorts of healing magic stuff. Mrs Hawkins made Harry write down everything from the curse breaking night, and she and Niall studied, debated, and argued about it with inputs from Harry. Harry focused on his magical studies, trying to understand more of the theory behind it. Liam started letting them meet Louis, but he prohibited any talk about the curse.

A month passed, and then another, and Liam used a combination of magic and exercises to strengthen Louis legs, and Louis started walking though with a lot of pain, and only for a few minutes in the beginning. Harry started spending a lot of time with Louis, playing games, and talking, and also indulging in flirtations, though they avoided any talk about the curse. So, it was quite a surprise when Louis asked Harry to come with him to the cove. And, to say that Harry was surprised was an understatement; he was flabbergasted and incoherent.

“You want to go back to the cove? Are you sure? I don’t think you should go because Liam said-” Harry said.

“I’m quite sure, Harry. I want to go there. Please.” Louis said; his face was set with determination.

“Alright, I’ll tell the stable hand to get a cab ready.” Harry said reluctantly. He had a feeling that this was important to Louis, and that’s the only reason he was agreeing to this.

“Are you sure you can’t carry me? You look like you could, look at your muscles.” Louis said with a sly grin, and ran his fingers down Harry’s biceps.

“Oh I don’t mind carrying you, but I don’t want you go into rapture when you feel my muscles.” Harry shot back, and flexed his muscles.

“I’ve seen better muscles.” Louis scoffed, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from Harry’s arms, and Harry grinned smugly.

The ride to the beach was silent; Louis was fidgety and anxious, and Harry half thought that Louis would call the trip off, but Louis didn’t say anything even when they had alighted, and were walking through the sand. Louis took hold of Harry’s hand, and the vice like grip of his fingers was the only sign of his distress for his face was completely impassive. They walked with slow, measured steps, and Louis climbed down the rocks with utmost care. Then, they were inside the cove.

The cove looked the same as it had three months, and even smelled the same. Even the water dripped in the cove at the same pace, and Harry heard Louis take in a deep breath and exhale slowly. Louis’ jaw trembled a little, and Harry curled his fingers around Louis’, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Louis bent down from the waist, pushed aside a piece of stone, and picked something up from the hollow space which, Harry remembered, was where Louis had hid his fish once.

Louis opened his palm to show Harry what he was holding: two greyish-blue scales. Harry stared at them, and then stared at Louis. Louis chuckled in embarrassment.

“I pulled them off my tail before you and Liam came to break the curse that curse. I-I don’t know what I was thinking; I just pulled them, and hid them here. After I started getting better, I told myself to forget about them, but it kept on itching at the back of my mind.

“Oh. Um- maybe you can keep it as a testament of what you survived?” Harry said, and watched Louis carefully. Louis was staring at the scales with an expression that was a mixture of disgust, resentment, and anger.

“I don’t know.” Louis said, and then shook his head. “Actually, I do know. I’m going to throw them away. I don’t need any mementos about my time as a merman. I already have one memento, that ugly scar on my shoulder. I don’t see why I should have more mementos.” Louis said, and walked with purposeful steps to the mouth of the cove. He dropped them into the sea without any ceremony, and Harry and Louis watched as it sank, and disappeared into the water in a second.

“Let’s get out of here. This place is making me uncomfortable.” Louis said.

They were silent as they scaled the rocks, and got up the beach. Then, Louis broke the silence.

“I used to be fascinated with the sea. I’ve told you that, haven’t I? I used to take long walks on the beach back in Ryson, but now, I’m repulsed by the sea.” Louis said, staring at the sand.

“I understand.” Harry said, and helped Louis get into the cab when they reached it.

“I and Mrs Hawkins are working on a long lasting version of the Call. I wouldn’t have to Call everyday then, and we’ll also be able to use it in other seaside towns.” Harry said as they made their way back to Liam’s house.

“That’s interesting.” Louis said.

Harry nodded. “It’s slow going, mostly because my grandfather didn’t share any information with me, but we’re certain that we can figure it out.” Harry said, and he felt nervous about what he was going to say next.

“I’m sure you can. You’re the best magical theorist that I know.” Louis said with a proud smile.

“There’s no such thing as a magical theorist.” Harry said.

“Yet. I’ll tell Niall to create that position in the NWS, and you’ll be the first magical theorist.” Louis said. “You’ll be the best magical theorist, you just wait.”

Harry beamed at Louis, feeling impossibly endeared. “You’re so supportive and protective, it is stupidly lovely.”

Louis actually blushed, and Harry gasped in shock. “Is Louis Tomlinson blushing?”

“Shut up, you wanker!” Louis huffed, and swatted at Harry’s shoulder.

Harry laughed, but didn’t tease Louis further because he had to say it before he lost his nerve.

“So, if we manage to create a long lasting version of the Call, I’ll be able to move to Warlington. Niall said he knows a solicitor who is willing to train me, so, I’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone: become a solicitor, and also participate more directly in the NWS.” Harry took a deep breath. “And, you’ve been talking about looking for a job in Warlington, so, if you get a job there, and if I come to Warlington, too, I was wondering if we could, you know, er- rent rooms?”

“That would be delightful. Now I’m really praying that I’ll get a job in Warlington.” Louis said with a thrilled smile.

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Yes, of course. I just hope everything works out, and we end up renting a flat.”

“I really hope so too.” Harry said, excitement already bubbling in his stomach. He couldn’t wipe the pleased smile off his face even when they’d parted ways for the day, and he smiled all the way home.

It was a week later when Harry was working on Liam’s garden that his assistant put a chair near Harry, and helped Louis walk over to it and sit down, and then put another chair beside his.

Harry was struck, and not for the first time, by how handsome Louis was. He brushed off the soil from his hands and sat down beside Louis.

“I know we haven’t talked much about this topic, but I want to thank you for breaking the curse.” Louis said.

“You don’t have to do that, Lou.” Harry said.

“I want to, alright. So, thank you, Harry for breaking the curse, and coming with me to the cove last week.” Louis said solemnly.

“You’re welcome, Louis.” Harry said just as solemnly.

“Now that we’re done with that, let me tell you a joke that I came up with.” Louis said with a mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Why does the housekeeper’s cat like me so much? Because I was half fish!” Louis said, and giggled.

“Lou! That’s awful!” Harry said, though he couldn’t help but laugh.

Louis grinned in delight, and leaned back in the chair. “It’s my revenge for all those awful jokes you’ve been telling me.”

They fell silent for a moment, and they watched the flowers flutter in the breeze, the smell heady and sweet. Louis shut his eyes, and Harry swept his eyes across his face that he’d tipped up towards the sun. Louis’ cheeks and eyes were no longer hollow, and he’d shaved his beard, and he looked much younger and healthier.

“I’m so glad that you’ve recovered so well.” Harry said, his heart warming with affection.

“Yes. I’m glad too, it has been difficult, the nightmares, and the atrophy, and stuff. And, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat fish again, or go near the sea, but now the worst is over, and the best is yet to come - that’s what I tell myself.” Louis said, opening his eyes, and looking at Harry.

“The best is yet to come.” Harry repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

Louis grinned. “Sounds all philosophical and wise, doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does.”

Louis suddenly turned nervous, and licked his lips before speaking. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Harry tilted his head in curiosity. “What is it?”

“May I court you?”

Harry was so shocked, and surprised by his words that he gaped at Louis, unable to find words. His silence made Louis nervous, who started babbling apologies. Harry finally gathered his wits, and cut Louis short.

“Lou, stop. Of course you can court me. God! Yes! I was just shocked. We can court each other, I -”

Louis giggled. “Someone is very excited.” He teased.

“Shut up.” Harry huffed.

“Do you think we should kiss to seal the deal?” Louis asked, his mouth curving up in a smirk.

“Louis! And here I thought you were a gentleman. I’m very disappointed let me tell you.”

“Well, I’ll let you know, Harold that it is a commonly accepted practice.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, it is.” Louis said challengingly, and then shrieked when Harry dug his fingers into his side.

Louis was giggling, and trying to squirm away from him, and Harry gave up all pretence, and kissed Louis, who gasped in shock before quickly recovering and kissing Harry back. Louis was smiling into the kiss, and when Harry broke the kiss, and looked at Louis, he was looking at him fondly, his eyes twinkling with happiness. Harry grinned, his heart feeling too full of warmth, joy, and adoration and he saw the same emotions reflected on Louis’ face. Harry leaned in and kissed Louis again.

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I would love to hear your thoughts and comments!
> 
> You can talk to me on [tumblr](http://steampunk-lou.tumblr.com/).


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